01 Jun Does It Follow You, Too?
Do you remember me
as I remember you?
for I saw the way you glared at me and
Felt the way our stomachs both turned
At the sight of one another.
Yet how am I to know
That you really glared?
And how am I to know
That you did not imagine me
Staring daggers into your soul
As I did for you?
And as the new words I imagined minutes before
Slip between the grips of my fingers,
Out of my poetic reach,
I mourn for them, and
I mourn for a time when my words were held
Within my grasp.
I know that you see me, for our
Eyes painfully graze each other
As I am left with a childish wound
That I must sting with the ointment of reality:
Yes, there was a time when friendship blossomed around us
In branches of too many to count.
But while there was a time
When the petals rested on my shoulders
And I thought that,
Just for a second,
That I could be beautiful, too,
I must remember
That the time when there were blossoms
And their petals fell on my shoulders
And I could have been beautiful;
The time when I was trusted with frail glass friendship
Was then, not today.
Yet even though I know this,
That the blossoms are now wilted and dead,
I still find their ghosts following me into daydreams.
And when these ghosts follow me into my heart,
I can’t help but ask you, my daydream,
Do they follow you, too?
And while the better half of my head tells my heart,
That these ghosts follow me, and only me
As our music pounds into my ears,
Bass, guitar and drums deafening my thoughts,
It follows me into my dreams, and
I can’t help but ask you,
Do you remember me, and
Does it follow you, too?