BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND TWITTER BACKGROUNDS

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

A Moment Too Late

I was a moment too late when I realized that you were the best thing that had ever happened to me.  I realized after i pushed you away. . .after I convinced myself that you weren't as special as you truely were.  I realized after I left gashes in your heart with a razor.  I realized after I left you bleeding on the floor.  Then someone else came, cleaned you up, and brought you home.  I was a moment too late when I realized that I loved you more than anything.  I was a moment too late when I realized you were gone. . .forever. . .That you were my life. . .and my air. . .and now i'm drounding in my mistakes.  I'm sorry.  I don't mean to cry.  I don't mean to tell you this now. . .after its already too late, but if I dont say it now it will never get said.  I loved you, and I still do.  You took care of me, and you loved me, and you treated me like I was something special.  I gave that up. . .why??  because i'm stupid?  because I was scared?  I don't know why. . .but I did.  Now its a moment too late and I can't take it back.  All I can do is hope that someday I will get another chance to make it right.  All I can do it hope and pray.

Creature of the Night II

He lurks in the woods.  When he is sure no one can see him, he comes out.  He hids in the dirt.  Under pine cones.  Swarmed by ticks and crickets.  He hides.  Waiting.  He waits for me in the woods.  Under the trees and the moss.  While the rain drizzles down.  He waits.  He waits for me to turn around before he will make his move.  I know he is there.  I feel him.  I anticipate his every move, but I'm still surprised when he does.  Yes. . .he is my creature of the night.  You never turn your back on the creature of night.  I still have my wounds.  He is sure to leave his mark, he always leaves you aching.  But I love him.  I love him because our meetings are rare.  Because he hugs me and holds me tight.  Because he tells me every night that it will be okay.  Because he loves me in the purest and most sincere way possible.  But, like every fictional character, it can never be.  He lives his life in the fairytale and fantasy of my mind. . .but no where else.  So I sit here...yearning, desiring, longing. . .for my creature of the night. . .until I fall asleep and dream.