when I was younger and colder,
I took you for granted and, granted,
I knew that at the time, but I couldn’t
tell how much of my life you’d take up;
I couldn’t see how much of you
would be who i’d become.
and in our flickering memories,
lined with holes and hanging on
to light’s dancing love,
you’re so close and
I wait for the scenes where
I reached out to take some
of your warmth with me.
now here, I sit, frozen
by tears, trying to
remember where I put it,
and I’m afraid I
packed it away for
days like today, but now
I can’t find it, and I know
if you were here, you’d
give me more, but we
both know why that can’t be.
and so I slip back inside
to wait for the scenes where
I reached out to take
some of your warmth with me,
to see where I put it,
because I could sure use yours now—
I think i’ve ran out of my own.