Second guessing second chances.

-
Time will freeze
And those stolen hours will pass so swiftly like summer breeze,
That, I am sure of,
What I don't know is,
does it always feel like this?
You're holding my hands and they don't fit perfectly into yours,
Our fingers aren't intertwined but it doesn't seem to matter,
No one has ever held my hands before, that's what I want to say but instead I bite my lip and I kiss you,
My clumsy hands roam freely on your body making an invisible trail on the map that is your skin,
I want to memorize this path and go over it millions of times except that I have a poor sense of direction, and I get lost often,
but I'll try not to lose my way. 
The clouds covering the sky have somehow manged to cram inside my head,
I can't seem to get enough,
I have never knew how starved for affection I was up until this moment.
The only thing that matters is the feeling of your arms around me,
Strong and steady,
My heart is anything but.
Your patience is unmatched, and I apologize that it's only rewarded with reluctance that could be mistaken for rejection. 
that's all I seem to know, 
My skin will forget the feeling of you as it renews in the span of 40 days, So will yours, But my brain will remember, 
Hopefully, so will yours,
Maybe that amount of time will be enough for us to make up our minds,
Because we won't have each other tomorrow,
But for tonight you are mine.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

mirror

-
My thoughts are not holy, My body isn't a temple It's not a sacred space It's tender flesh and a fragile spine, It's nothing remotely divine, It's belimished skin and visible markings, I know there is solace in metaphors, in similes, in saying things not as they are but as what they're like,  in trying to compare what you can't understand to what you do, Maybe only then it will make sense, Trying to simplify it, pulling threads and tying ends and loosening knots, trying to make it look familiar, But it is almost never accurate, Words are just letters, More times than not they hold little to no significance. Little to no reassurance, little to no validation, Sorry , a half hearted apology Always met with sincere acceptance. 
Read more

The apartment

-
 When I think about my ideal house. I think wide balconies,  I think penthouse,  I think small yet not claustrophobia inducing.  I think roomy but not huge.  I think large but just enough to house two people and a pet, preferably a cat.  I think walls, muted yellow and forest green,  I think walls that you can pin me against and kiss me. I think walls, unlike the ones I keep around my heart, that aren't prone to crumbling at any hint of tenderness. I think walls I can hang up pictures of us. Crappy art I make and posters of your favorite things. I think of walls that have ears but never heard screaming or anger, I think of walls that have never witnessed disappointment.  I think of warm nights and cool breeze and long hugs and affection unaccounted for. 
Read more

The Quest.

-
I know regret when I see it, I spot it easily on your grey blotted aura. It glistens through your bloodshot eyes,  the windows of your soul, one glance is more than enough to recognize it. You have taken it upon yourself to seek redemption, From things you have no control over, but it never hurts to try. The sought after resurrection of what have been long dead will drain you, yet, you carry on, with a broken compass and a useless map, determined to revive what was once alive, reclaim what was once yours, But you can't seem to find it. That missi ng thing. You tell yourself that you've got nothing to lose and maybe Just maybe This time there will be a different outcome. A lie you cradle along with the truth. And when you go back to where you started, You swallow your pride and  disappointment, Like splinters of wood,  But your insides are lined with sandpaper, your spine is made of steel, and none of it longer fazes you.
Read more