terabithiandream

I think maybe I need you to be a lot more (serious) than you can be. I know you didn't want to, but you tricked me with all that depth behind your face. Your mouth says: don't do it. I don't want that. But your arms, they hold me so tightly, and your lips, they whisper those long-lasting kisses. Your eyes say there is more. Am I crazy to believe this more than anything I've ever felt? Maybe it's a fabrication of a lonely heart but when we're alone, I can see there is so much more than what's on the surface.

Here is where I come to surrender the day into the cool, inviting reach of the night. The tension dissipates, the muscles relax, the anxiety is released. Hush, now, it's over; you are safe once again. Hush, now, my lover; you are in my hands. The glaring pressures of daylight are left behind in sunset's trail. Now is the time to breathe the breeze; the fresh breath of air in the trees; hidden away in this secret grove waiting for me to consume it. Waiting for my relief. Sweet, damp air with the lively green tinge- I feel things grow better at night. It's quiet. I reflect on my reflections, and let them slip away.

I'm not sure why you hid in the back of my mind for so long, Just waiting to pounce. You were poison-fertilizer. And now that you have revealed yourself, Sneakily growing up through my scalp, I wish I were surprised. It's shameful that you planted yourself there so long ago, but it wasn't my fault, I promise. I take no responsibility for your greedy fingers or your quick laugh or your lightning eyes. How could I? They are yours, and not mine. But they're rented out, frequently and furiously. You're so full of life that you have to give it away. And you gave me more than that- life; You gave me butterflies and shallow breath and

Maybe I should keep this feeling hidden away inside. But it's dancing across my soul like a gypsy, begging to be released. So I'll cut it loose onto paper, and hope for the best. ------------------------ My heart expands upon contact with yours; swells past what I ever dreamed or knew, and floats away like a hot air balloon in the blue-summer sky. My life is so full with you, so ready to burst. My feet are tumbling through the clouds and my head is lost in the ocean. It's terrifying to be me. But I can't possibly pull away, your words whisper to me like the inside of a shell, and I could hear your call from a million miles away.

I listen to your next-door murder. Your yeling, shooting, bleeding. I do that, here, on the inside. I hear your laugh, and I wince, because I used to love that sound. I used to melt at your touch, bloom at your smile. And here I am, withering away. Bangbangbang. Keep shooting. Kaboom. My heart explodes. I can hear your talking, cursing, joking. It's a joke, the way I feel. Was it so effervescent, my love, that it could just slip away? "Shoot ittt! Yess." Shoot me in-between the eyes, I no longer have a use for my brain. or my heart. or my hands. Without your fingers around them, they're so empty. It's slowly dawning on m

I want to fill these lines up with moments, of the times with you and I; I can't make them last forever but I sure as hell can try. of your fingers dancing across my torso with no one else around, of your darling sleepy face when you cease to make a sound. of your reassuring squeeze when we're caught in a big crowd, when you lean in close to talk because everything else is so loud. of your quick, contageous laugh when something strikes your fancy, of your little lick,tilt`n'kiss that sets my heart to dancing. of your promises of life and hope when everything else seems dim, of the way your presence lingers the next day on m

I hope you know it breaks my heart every time she says your name, because she keeps you tied down so hard with her sick and twisted game. The marks she leaves upon your life are too much for me to bear, because you always just tell yourself it's still your job to care. Don't you know that you are precious, that you don't deserve this fate? you're letting her ruin you with your guilt and your self-hate. It doesn't matter what you did or how wrong you think it was; the fact is she has no right to torture you and call it love.

If I write the words, will you write the music? Because I can make it sound so pretty, what's happening to us. Falling, flailing, calling, catching Me. I can't get it out fast enough, quick-remember quick-record this summer night and these stars and those eyes. Oh, those eyes, they sail me to the moon and back, but here on earth, I'm never grounded. No, my feet float above the dirt, and my heart flits on the breeze because you, boy, are the wind beneath my wings. So write me a melody, play it back, I'll pretend to know what I'm doing if you just pretend to care. Because all I want is that smile to acknowledge my existence, an