There are words too afraid to leave my fingertips, words that could only be spoken through the touch of your spine, the soft bumps lined down your delicate body.
I can’t stop thinking of these…things, these ideas.
Ideas that aren’t complete, ideas I can’t compact enough words into to display them. My mind can’t help but trod on forbidden lands, painful wounds that are freshly sewn together.
I remember the fountain that rested at the bottom of the stairs, its aged, silver statue up straight in the middle of it. It used to be my favourite little resting place where I could easily turn the pages over and over without a moment of interruption. It was perfectly rounded within the centre of the formation of cracked stones that lied beneath the stairs. In between the cracks, small growths of nature crawled through, greeting the air with it’s soft shade of green. Beyond the stones grew knee deep grass, with overgrown trees overhanging above. It was as if the place was untouched, with nature claiming back their land. It was a quiet bubble of beauty within a world of non-stop clattering, a world filled with people too busy to acknowledged the softness life has to offer. It was my little spot to read my favourite books without even a speck of worry. The trickling water behind my as I lean on the fountain, the air filled a silence filled with rustling leaves and soft chirps of passing birds. In the moments spent hiding away from life, I never felt the need to include music, as it would only ever taint the air. Instead, I spent my days peacefully reading with nature whispering on my neck.
It was the lightness of the darkness that got me
The sky pale with the colour of dark blue
The bright moon white in the sky
It’s roundness glaring down at us
Not with power, but with admiration
Like an observer watching over as nature takes its course
The years it has spent with us
Watching us grow into a mixture of good and evil
It’s brightness can only hold on for so long
Like an eye whimpering for a blink
But like an eye, it’s waiting for the next moment to open
For the world is filled with enough beauty to watch over
Despite the falls
You call me by my middle name and I thought you were making fun of me but you weren’t. You genuinely liked my middle name and you decided for yourself that that’s what you’re going to call me from that point on. At first I was uncomfortable but then I realised a weird beauty behind it. You were comfortable when talking to me, you wanted to call me something different, something you liked. You’re my only friend that calls me by my middle name and that strangely allows you to become unique to me.
I’ve been thinking about what I could say, not because I didn’t have enough to say. I am simply a perfectionist, I want what I say to come across the way I intend it to. I think you’re special, incredibly special and I have this fear in the back of my head that I could lose you before I get to know you the way I’d like to.
You’re incredibly good looking and it stings my heart everytime you refuse to believe it. The muscles in my cheeks take over my lips, creating that genuine curve of a smile every single time I see you, even when I receive that tiny notification at the top of my screen. Even the colour pallet of your profile picture popping up on my phone creates that beautiful excitement. I wish you could look into the mirror the way I look at you. I wish you could feel that spark behind your eyes as you gaze in amazement. I wish you could feel that sudden pause, that soft gasp begging to escape the barriers of your delicate lips.
And then there are your messages, words with pure beauty wrapped around them like a bow holding together a dozen roses. They create this pure feeling of kindness and care creating this calm warmness surrounding my heart. I enjoy the jokes that escape our lips bringing the most genuine smiles I’ve made in a long while. The sadness grown from our deep discussions of our issues always turns into dandelions. I feel honest with you because of how gentle you come across. I lose track of time, my eyes begging me to fall asleep but never surrendering.
I’m honestly speechless, it’s incredibly difficult to pick out what I could say. Because you deserve to hear every beautiful thought that you would never have time to hear.
I want to sit around and hear you talk. Your body sunken into the couch as we wrap blankets around us, the room painted with yellow by the dim lamp. Your legs spread out over my lap as I rest my hand on them. Your skin is so incredibly soft, my fingertips can’t help but run along your leg. Every time I look at you, I can’t help but smile. In that moment, that soft silence of self-realisation, I realise how lucky I am to have you. I know in that moment that I’ve met the one because I smile effortlessly, without realisation half the time. As I’m sitting here listening about your day, I can’t help but admire your captivating eyes. Every syllable that forms through your delicately soft lips creates the angelic voice I hold close to my heart. I could spend all night listening to that beautiful voice. 🙂
It’s a quiet night in the countryside. The open fields, the trees in the distance hiding away the horizon. The house we’re staying in is just up the small hill with all the lights turned off. We’re the only ones out here, way out from town. It’s beautiful, I have you in my arms as we lie on the grass, the bright stars gleaming above us. I point out at the three stars, telling you all about the belt of Orion. I close my eyes as I rub my forehead with my fist as I try recalling the names of the three stars… Alnitak, Alnilam and Mintaka. I bring you closer as I wrap my arms around you tighter. We smile as we gaze up at the night sky as it revolves around us, the moon rising as it slowly builds a bridge of light across the lake in the distance. The hours racing past us as we lose ourselves in the beauty of the night. I can’t help but feel free with you by my side.