Two Rivers

Maybe my mind is a minefield, but somehow the crickets soothingly sound. Somehow, in the corner of this canvas ground, in this territory of familiarity. I feel slightly found. As if I am picking up again pieces of nostalgia worth six years of stitches healed.

Many nights ago, this was where sleepless nights began. I remember stolen glances across fires, where kamikaze bugs flew - between subtle guitar tunes and secret smiles. And sneaking to the beach when everybody was asleep to catch the sky full of millions of stars light up the lake where two rivers merge. We used to walk in the dark intimately giggling at sweet nothings. And holding hands have never felt sweeter. I remember conspiring lame excuses to find yours, during hikes and rock climbs. Even under picnic tables our fingers clandestinely intertwined,  thinking nobody would notice. But they probably knew, anyway.

We were so young. And I have never felt so much more in love as I did then. With how I was with my life and even more, with you.

...yet here I am, six years too late. As I lay on this canvas ground, listening to the wind whispering memories the trees were once privy to witnessing. The same unceded territory of familiarity. Little did I know then, that this is how it would unfold.

i find so much said in silences

and so much comfort in familiarity

no matter - predictability in uncharted territory can bring 

such a wonderful feeling.

ever known

walk with me, but do not wait

maybe winter has lost its bloom

maybe you decided to leave it all too soon

you can ask me anything

and know i will not fall apart

somehow my insides have folded

and i am convinced

there is nothing left to tear

when i have lost   

the day i found it all in you

in and over again

i miss it all
& sometimes i wonder if you did too.

but i am full of doubts.
time is never on our side,
and i am becoming the part that don't last
maybe i let go too soon.

In signs of nothing but attempted understanding I tried to make sense of everything - when we purposefully put ourselves in the positions of in betweens. & somehow here we go again, in this territory of unknown feelings uncharted with meanings. 

It is a harder sense of loss;

To lose something you doubt you even had in the first place

Everything is eventual

But sometimes,

Interpretations are illusory

at the altar of the world, my words decide to falter