Monday, January 31, 2011

Sunburnt and Sunbaked.

I get sick of the sky for the clouds always pass me by.
They never stick around much these days, 
the northerly sea breeze, and sway of the tress always seem to hush them away.
So I stumbled inside to count the stars 
spinning in my head,
I fumbled and tried and fell from the sky and landed on my bed,
I got sick of the sky and counting stars so I stared into the floor,
shoes and bags,
shirts and jeans traced me from the door.
You called me and told me your troubles, 
how a boy liked you and cried,
Because you talked to me...
He realized he'd only lied.
He was in love with you,
And I don't think i liked that, 
plus it seemed to bother you a lot.
I remember why I stay up on the roof at sunsets.
To watch the clockworks of the universe, forget about the nonsense.
I can see the moon creeping up to brighten my skies, 
to outshine all the stars I had drowning in lies,
To outshine the comets that suddenly appear and blow you away...
Then disappear.
My skies right now are clear, a pale blue,
The sun shines brighter when I'm with you...
hope you know that.
When you're up on my roof with me, the clouds always seem to stay and chat.
So stay awake with me, tighten the grip of my hands, I adore your company.
We said goodnight and you rolled over to kiss me softly on the cheek.
If you really are my dream-girl, will I see you in my sleep?

She asked me to write her a story while I was practically green as gumby. 
I sort of like it.

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