April 5, 2003.
That is the day I met you.
That is the day I fell in love with you.
I wanted you to be thinking of me.
I wish I could read your mind, it may have made my life so much less painful.
No more wishful thinking.
5 years ago • 16 notesApril 5, 2003.
That is the day I met you.
That is the day I fell in love with you.
I wanted you to be thinking of me.
I wish I could read your mind, it may have made my life so much less painful.
No more wishful thinking.
5 years ago • 16 notes
Time does not bring relief Edna St Vincent Millay
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go - so with his memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, ‘There is no memory of him here!’
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
late at night, when i can’t sleep, i find myself looking at photos of you.
it doesn’t make me feel any closer.
this has to be one of the strangest nights of my life.
i’ve never been so aware of being so…..isolated.
at the same time, i’ve never felt so watched.
5 years ago • 0 notes