“My ears are still ringing from the sound of your broken heart, beating faster than thought, caught in your stare, so encompassing. All resolve is lost as words fall from your lips, my trembling fingertips held out in question. So shake hands with regret, set to slip away. Your eyes crossing, rivers flowing under your pale feet. As the moments count down to flames, meet and greet death, he wears a cloak of your hopes and dreams, quenched like the raging fire they were once. You’re the breath he never found; you are the closed eyes peacefully resting while those around you are torn to pieces. You’re the smoke I pull to escape from thought of you. No touch, no shadow cast into mind, your hand fervidly held at your side as memories of you flow through mine an empty space more lonesome for what it has lost. You’re the sunset smile thundering out of a careless moment, you’re the tightly closed fingers holding in a breath. If you would stay here with me, one more minute, I would steal the world.”
“I Still Think About Who I Was Last Summer” - Old Gray (An Autobiography, 2013)