The dust settles in my mind

There is something blocking the way. I have felt it many times and so have you. These thoughts come thick and fast as though we are on a train speeding across the Siberian desert with our arms waving around at no one. And we realise we were made for this. I am alone in a crowded room and you are on the other side. I can see you through the film that covers my face but its blurry as though you are in a dream and I am not. We are on the opposite sides of the truth and that familiar feeling comes a long again and I can see that we are free again. I see you in my dreams but can no longer reach and touch you until the moments come and you return again. The camera frames your face in a way that makes sense and I am capturing the moments of our lives like never before. We wake and smile that we are both here together in the same place where we belong.

In the way we know how. The pile of books are stacking up and you know better than I do that this is just way things have to be. It would be impossible to change the things that make us who we are. I never want to make you have to change in order for this to work in a way where the trees have said goodbye to us all. The magnets on the fridge are silly somehow, so many moments that others would miss is what makes us who we are. The feeling goes beyond anything we have ever known and I am holding you the way I do. The leaves are gold and painted all over the place. We see signs in the places we find ourselves in. We are running towards it all, without a care in the world.We are whispering in the dark as though its a secret somehow we know all the truths there are to be told. Hold my hand and lets delve a little deeper, in the way we like.

They look at me and it feels like being in a house that no one wants to live in. Everything is all over the floor even the fish are out of the tank, flapping away and taking their last breath. You know better than anyone the mess makes it all stop. The things that work have ceased to exist as we are living in a story in our own minds. People are singing in the old abandoned church around the corner or is it coroner and I can hear them and wish I was part of what they are doing some how. I can hear the songs from my childhood memories where you were there and but also not, we have met many times and this is just another time we come together. This lifetime is another chance for us to hold each other and sleep soundly holding everything tightly in our hearts and lightly in our hands. Will you be there when things are different?