tell her she's lovely

We can’t all have a happy ending.

He sees her face and is immediately sorry. He can’t unspeak the words that shattered her glass heart, but he wants so badly to hold her to him and hide her burdened eyes in his chest so her gaze will stop searching for his…

He thinks back to the times when she would curl against him like a small child seeking unspoken comfort. He wishes he could take her back to when things were simple and smiles came easily to her lips as lightning in the springtime.

She must hate him… but her kind heart would never let it show. She could never cause him pain the way he had her. That’s what he’d loved most… Why had he done it again? His memory betrayed him and he felt the familiar ache spread through his chest.

But she’s a wise young woman. Walls have been tediously constructed of her ivory rib cage to keep him away from her fragile heart- the pieces of which are now precariously glued back together, placed with utmost care. It’s selfish of him, really, to think himself worthy of a handling such a delicate thing a second time.

And so he will go on… While unbeknownst to him, she would gladly allow him to shatter her over again just to feel his warm breath and taste the salt of his skin just one more time… 

Symbolism

Ten times today you will replace my name with yours…
It wont cross your lips but as your fingertips brush
the same surface that mine passed only hours before
will you feel my ghost lingering sweetly in the air?
I don’t imagine you will because I never was to you
what you once were to me… 

Don’t think

          Don’t think,
          don’t think,
          don’t think. 
Again I remind myself.
Do you know how hard it is
to not think about you?
If I pause for even a moment
your face is before me again,
smiling the way you do-
that smile I thought
was special just for me
with your eyes alight, 
the corners creased just so…
I suppose the ache isn’t 
as intense as it once was
even if only fractionally so.
But my face still burns at
the foolishness I feel for 
everything. Everything.
It creeps through me
like the vines of adrenaline,
but the danger is long gone.
Focus.
I focus then,
on the sound of passing cars,
the whoosh of the fan above,
the clock tick, tick, ticking…
Another restless night.
          Don’t think,
          don’t think,
          don’t think.
 

This is not about you

Your bow shaped lips hold no allure
though they fluidly move
and shape each word. Your words?
This is not about you.

You laugh lightly, easily-
the sound slightly affected
by the sarcasm of a shared joke.
No, this is not about you…

Your fingers curl through the air
as the non-words fall from your tongue-
accenting this and that,
but again, this isn’t about you.

Your eyes crinkle and light up-
kind, yet invulnerable with
cleverly placed innocent deceit 
But didn’t I say this isn’t about you?

It’s about the girl
who can’t stop thinking about
everything you do and
how interestingly you do it.
Unable to move or speak-
captivated by silent films, for
her ears are turned inward,
attempting to decode the audio
that keeps scrambling
as her thoughts stray. 
I know what you’re thinking and no,
this is not about me.

Anonymous asked: Well dear, you're certainly lovely! :3 (and I like how the picture of you on your blog corresponds to the background!)

Aw, thank you- that’s so sweet! ^_^

Moving on…

Spring whispers my name, soft and sweet.
But I’m still so cold from the winter’s defeat.
The warm winds urge me to forget the past season’s plight.
Don’t you know that I want to, with all of my might?
The leaves grow supple and shine emerald in the sun.
Still I sit, stationary, convinced he was the one.
Soon the birds break the silence with their returned love songs.
They sing to me of the heart for which mine desperately longs
and how he is but a silly bird with a daft sense of migration.
That feeling I felt was but love’s deluded imitation.