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Literature Text
We drove past the dim front of that old restaurant where the benches are the bards of the city’s stories. I told you I missed reading all those names carved in hearts. Though most of those hearts have long since broken, you said some have made it.
They’ve just made it.
I think I loved you then.
We were chasing fireflies.
I fell onto the June-warmed grass while the bonfire whispered warmth across the yard. You stood over me, one of the little creatures clasped in your hands. Light spilled between your fingers and your eyes glowed nearly as bright.
You were god, picking up the falling stars.
You opened your hands and we watched your star rise.
Radiance isn’t as lovely caged.
The lips smile, the heart aches and something inside breaks.
They’ve just made it.
I think I loved you then.
We were chasing fireflies.
I fell onto the June-warmed grass while the bonfire whispered warmth across the yard. You stood over me, one of the little creatures clasped in your hands. Light spilled between your fingers and your eyes glowed nearly as bright.
You were god, picking up the falling stars.
You opened your hands and we watched your star rise.
Radiance isn’t as lovely caged.
The lips smile, the heart aches and something inside breaks.
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This was inspired by something someone once said to me on a bus.
And by chasing fireflies.
Never stop chasing fireflies.
And by chasing fireflies.
Never stop chasing fireflies.
Comments16
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this is beautifully written.
it's so easy to picture all of this happening - and I love it.
it's so easy to picture all of this happening - and I love it.