Long Walks and Cold Hands

Our days were filled with long walks straight out of reality

While the cold wind blew on us, and I trusted that you were more than what they said you were:

Angry.

But the stories we told filtered the air

and as we talked I considered the affair that we had never been cold

We had just been lonely

I mean we were just kids so what did we know?

Funny to say we knew that image was more than just clothes and dough

So were we in love? No, but we knew what it was

We knew in that evening we were achieving something not worth leaving

and if we kept dreaming it could become that.

Love.

But now you take your walks alone

While your fingers still tingle but now they mingle with something other than my own

You talk to yourself in the wintry air full of despair and maybe just maybe

It’s because I’m not there

But I know I’m the last thing you think of

Because while I’m thinking of you you’re drinking up that high that you need to get by

Because now the only way you look at life is through red watering eyes

So until that day we recap

And let go of the past and you holding your deathtrap

I’ll find love and come home

While yours only exists between two cold fingers and long walks alone

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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