True Stories

I wonder how sometimes words can come together so painstakingly beautifully while most speech is mistakenly ordinary
I read words of writers long past and my heart breaks
But they’re still with me as their stories spin ever onward in my mind
While writers in the next room hardly have a story at all

Yet who am I to judge?
My story has barely started although I’ve written the ending over and over again for you.  Or was it for me?
I empty my cup quickly while yours sits there untouched, yet my life might fly much further than yours
But maybe my endings are my arrow pulled back farther, while your hardships are still unseen

Will you sail with me in this sea of agony?
My tear soaked sails are failing me, as the wind blows through them, forcing everything away from me and leaving me stranded
These pictures in my mind are painted so vividly, but I can’t copy them quite the same
I am neither Picasso no Van Gogh, but I will be remembered

Walk into life with me and I’ll follow you even further
Until death do us part will mean nothing for the likes of us
Our souls are intertwined, although before you I didn’t believe in soulmates at all
Not one bit did I think I’d stumble upon you like an inappropriate popup on an educational website while researching stronger facts for better lies

Always check your truths in reality and chuck your fantasies to the back of your mind
They’ll return to you again and again throughout the years, but never played out correctly until gripped appropriately between two chopsticks, picking up sushi on our third date
Dinner and a movie were what you promised, although the theater never happened because your car got a flat on the freeway
But the story of a smile never left my face

I search for you with my waking eyes only to find you missing
Replaced by fiction as I was only dreaming again
But you came to me, and it was real, you were real, and in your reality I remember
You are impossible, but I hold  your hand, truthfully

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