sepia.

by She's a Star

disclaimer: Remus and Sirius aren't mine, alas. If they were, they would still both be very much alive, thankyaverymuch.

author's note: I've got the most awful bout of writer's block, and all I can write is odd poetry. So . . . I'm writing odd poetry.

~

i live in sepia

tones and other not-quite-vibrant

pieces of a world

that doesn't need me very much-

and things were always so

comfortable with you.

and worn, but in a way that there was

always

the softest trace of a rush

or a sparkle

or something like that.

life felt like poetry

with you.

(i know how ridiculous

this

sounds.)

you'd smile at me

in that charming, lazy way you had

and say,

"y'know, i'll always need

you. whether you like it or

not."

sometimes i liked it.

sometimes i didn't.

but i always needed

you.

and then you were gone

twelve years fell by,

and it was fast

and it was slow

and it was numb

and it was painful

it was a million different

things

but none of them were you,

and

that hurt so badly.

you came back from the depths of a soulless

world

clinging to that dark beauty that had been yours

once

but now you were just tired,

and somehow i truly understood you

then.

we fell into each other

again

and i was such a fool to think that now

we'd get our happily ever after,

no matter how tainted and

tattered

it might be.

they caged you and handed me the

key;

i kept it and hid it and pretended that i

wasn't the one to lock you into

this dreary captivity.

i only hope you didn't blame me.

i'll never forget the last morning,

i fixed our coffee.

(you took yours black.)

and we shared fond, tired

smiles

that somehow knew before

we did

that this was the end of us.

you were brave and bold and careless

you taunted and you fell.

and i can't forget your face

seconds before i lost you.

(i try so hard to remember your smile.)

i can't.

(not yet.)

things are dark

now

and i hate it so much,

remembering

that once they were

light.