Twenty-Four Years and Several Bad Puns Later …

asibilantsoliloquy:

As the stars lazily roll across the sky,
I realise another month has gone by.
I name her January.

I imagine her dressed in white blankets,
Illuminated by the fading glow of fireworks
and tree lights left to live past their time -
But the truth is, she is only ordinary.
Each year I visit her, and
Each year she feels more empty.

I realise then, that a month
Is like a home that grows;
That, as years pass, I lose myself
In them and their rigmarole -
The hallways become windier,
The furniture seems tinier,
The dusty letters and pictures collect
In mounds of nostalgia
So large, I fear I’d drown in my own forgotten years.

Lost in my reveries,
The stars pass me by
And I am stirred by the touch of dawn’s light.
I tell January I love her still,
Placations drip from my tongue
Like from a character in a vaudeville.

Of course, she will be gone soon,
And another month will roll across the skies,
And in those later breezes, the leafless branches
Will wave their bitter-sweet goodbyes.
She will wave and bid adieu,
As her tears fall to the earth and freeze
On the hills and mountains, until
May’s warmth carries them out to sea.

I do not choose how the world turns,
Nor can I say I own the weeks.
I can only name the months and love them,
And hope they return even though they are free.
So I sit here and turn with the world,
Held on tenuously by my feet,
Until many months have come and gone,
And the world turns without me.

baku:

(via lecterings)

quotemadness:

“I wish for the same thing I’ve hoped for since the beginning. I wish for a life so brave, so unpredictable, so full of unexpected joys and unforgettable love that no box could possibly contain all my memories.”

— Chelsey Philpot