I, Love, and You. by xxcolor-my-worldxx, literature
Literature
I, Love, and You.
I touch your soft cheek with the stroke of my finger, unwilling to let you go.
You sleep, unfurled, soft sighs of breath released from your lips, shaped like luscious contraptions that will never let me go.
I smell a strangeness in you, but that can wait another day.
In the morning, coffee fills the air as you trudge down the stairs in your soft slippers and fluffy robe,
begging my arms to hold you, so I do.
You kiss me goodbye and I grudgingly part with you, a longing conveyed from my eyes to yours.
I would say we are well-off, happy, in a perfect place.
But maybe you don't think the same.
The strangeness is a tide, ebbing and flowi
I stare down at my blank piece of lined paper, trying to answer the prompt on the board: "What inspires you the most?
Well, all I can think of is you, you, and you.
I write my name, Maddy Thompson, in the upper-right corner, and glance up at you.
My heart thumps a little louder, palpitates a little faster. My palms begin to sweat, and a delirious sort of dizziness takes over.
Today you're wearing your long-sleeved T-shirt, with your smirk and the light in your eyes.
I have my hair up in a pony-tail, and I am wearing a vintage pastel dress, named "You Batter Believe It!"
Three rows ahead, two seats to the right, I see your dark brown hea
You hadn't seen me in a month when you said you needed space.
I said, "Isn't this enough?"
178,322 miles away,
Click.
The line went dead.
The spaces between my fingers no longer fit yours perfectly.
someone like you. by xxcolor-my-worldxx, literature
Literature
someone like you.
I will never forget you.
I had always dreamt of the boy who would grab my heart and just run with it.
You were that boy;
the only one who ever truly made me feel,
and I thank you for that.
For letting me catch a glimpse of unadulterated bliss, of pure happiness,
I am eternally grateful.
You have moved on with your life, that much is clear.
I am starting to see that I have moved on, too.
Maybe time really does ease the pain,
make the memories a little less clear,
a little sweeter.
It's true that things never worked out the way I planned,
but maybe this will be just as good.
What happens in our lives is always meant to be.
We ca
in your arms,
the morning dew
gasps, suspended;
pauses in your breath.
the fire in the sky
captures your essence,
reflects in your eyes.
the one singular leaf,
trembles at your touch,
green of color.
scampering squirrel,
to stop and stare
at your beauty.
dusk of the night,
caresses your face,
as i long to.
never knew how,
in your arms,
there would be
this.
Today was the first time I set my eyes on you.
And...oh boy. Literally.
There you were, leaning against the wall without a care in the world, your arms crossed, smirking the way you do, with one side of your mouth turned down and the other tilting upwards in the most striking fashion, your eyes twinkling with mischief and laughter. On this particular day, you were wearing your dark blue jeans, your black and white Vans, and your black jacket, so close to the beat of your heart. You looked my way; I looked away.
I was looking plain and simple that day, dressed in a perfectly proper w
To tell a story:
I need two characters, a boy and a girl...Jack and Jill.
I need a place, full of wonder, beauty, enchantment. A castle.
I need good and evil, so let's add in a wicked witch.
Hmm...what else?
I think I'll need Jack to fall for Jill so hard that he almost breaks his own heart.
She will be the only thing he ever thinks about.
Her hair, her smile, her laugh, her very essence.
I need Jack to give all he has for her, to love her and to protect her from the wicked witch and whisk her away to the castle and never realize that the one who needs protecting is himself.
Jack is going to be the most perfect love of her life,
bu
the stars are out,
strung on an invisible string,
bobbing gently, up and down,
swayed by the warm summer breeze.
they shine against the backdrop
of the bright, moonlit,
black sky,
gently enfolding the planes and the planets of the endless night.
at this magical time of day,
we lie on the heated pavement,
look up,
and manage to forget:
we forget the night that you stormed out,
taking the joy and the life
with you.
we forget the violence and rage of our father,
using his fists and his words,
choking us, killing us.
we forget the night our mama died in that cold, dark room,
hardly breathing, holding our hands, tears escaping
from the corne
I no longer have a place to call Home.
Home was in your arms,
but that which was is no longer,
and now I have no Home.
Home was coming back to you,
every day and night,
knowing that you were waiting for me.
Now that you are gone,
I have no home,
not even a semblance of one.
Home was listening to the beat of your heart,
in the dead silence of the night,
beating just for me.
Home was the smile on your face,
the memory of us,
the happiness we shared.
But you tore my Home apart,
and gave it to another;
what am I left with?
I have no Home,
no place to return to,
where shall I go?
I wish Home would just go back to the way it w
from rain to death. by xxcolor-my-worldxx, literature
Literature
from rain to death.
Rain dances upon my skin.
Teeth nip on my earlobe.
Flowers upon my grave.
Steam rises in the air.
Curves upon curves, mold.
Tear-stained shadows.
Smoke fills the sky with wisps.
Whispers in my ear and in my heart.
Bible read aloud, soul is abdicated.
The streets are shining, and clear.
Bodies twist in ecstasy, sleek and serpentine.
Dirt is piled upon dirt, and I am no longer me.
But the rain.
And the lust.
So there is death.
I, Love, and You. by xxcolor-my-worldxx, literature
Literature
I, Love, and You.
I touch your soft cheek with the stroke of my finger, unwilling to let you go.
You sleep, unfurled, soft sighs of breath released from your lips, shaped like luscious contraptions that will never let me go.
I smell a strangeness in you, but that can wait another day.
In the morning, coffee fills the air as you trudge down the stairs in your soft slippers and fluffy robe,
begging my arms to hold you, so I do.
You kiss me goodbye and I grudgingly part with you, a longing conveyed from my eyes to yours.
I would say we are well-off, happy, in a perfect place.
But maybe you don't think the same.
The strangeness is a tide, ebbing and flowi
I stare down at my blank piece of lined paper, trying to answer the prompt on the board: "What inspires you the most?
Well, all I can think of is you, you, and you.
I write my name, Maddy Thompson, in the upper-right corner, and glance up at you.
My heart thumps a little louder, palpitates a little faster. My palms begin to sweat, and a delirious sort of dizziness takes over.
Today you're wearing your long-sleeved T-shirt, with your smirk and the light in your eyes.
I have my hair up in a pony-tail, and I am wearing a vintage pastel dress, named "You Batter Believe It!"
Three rows ahead, two seats to the right, I see your dark brown hea
You hadn't seen me in a month when you said you needed space.
I said, "Isn't this enough?"
178,322 miles away,
Click.
The line went dead.
The spaces between my fingers no longer fit yours perfectly.
someone like you. by xxcolor-my-worldxx, literature
Literature
someone like you.
I will never forget you.
I had always dreamt of the boy who would grab my heart and just run with it.
You were that boy;
the only one who ever truly made me feel,
and I thank you for that.
For letting me catch a glimpse of unadulterated bliss, of pure happiness,
I am eternally grateful.
You have moved on with your life, that much is clear.
I am starting to see that I have moved on, too.
Maybe time really does ease the pain,
make the memories a little less clear,
a little sweeter.
It's true that things never worked out the way I planned,
but maybe this will be just as good.
What happens in our lives is always meant to be.
We ca
in your arms,
the morning dew
gasps, suspended;
pauses in your breath.
the fire in the sky
captures your essence,
reflects in your eyes.
the one singular leaf,
trembles at your touch,
green of color.
scampering squirrel,
to stop and stare
at your beauty.
dusk of the night,
caresses your face,
as i long to.
never knew how,
in your arms,
there would be
this.
Today was the first time I set my eyes on you.
And...oh boy. Literally.
There you were, leaning against the wall without a care in the world, your arms crossed, smirking the way you do, with one side of your mouth turned down and the other tilting upwards in the most striking fashion, your eyes twinkling with mischief and laughter. On this particular day, you were wearing your dark blue jeans, your black and white Vans, and your black jacket, so close to the beat of your heart. You looked my way; I looked away.
I was looking plain and simple that day, dressed in a perfectly proper w
To tell a story:
I need two characters, a boy and a girl...Jack and Jill.
I need a place, full of wonder, beauty, enchantment. A castle.
I need good and evil, so let's add in a wicked witch.
Hmm...what else?
I think I'll need Jack to fall for Jill so hard that he almost breaks his own heart.
She will be the only thing he ever thinks about.
Her hair, her smile, her laugh, her very essence.
I need Jack to give all he has for her, to love her and to protect her from the wicked witch and whisk her away to the castle and never realize that the one who needs protecting is himself.
Jack is going to be the most perfect love of her life,
bu
the stars are out,
strung on an invisible string,
bobbing gently, up and down,
swayed by the warm summer breeze.
they shine against the backdrop
of the bright, moonlit,
black sky,
gently enfolding the planes and the planets of the endless night.
at this magical time of day,
we lie on the heated pavement,
look up,
and manage to forget:
we forget the night that you stormed out,
taking the joy and the life
with you.
we forget the violence and rage of our father,
using his fists and his words,
choking us, killing us.
we forget the night our mama died in that cold, dark room,
hardly breathing, holding our hands, tears escaping
from the corne
I no longer have a place to call Home.
Home was in your arms,
but that which was is no longer,
and now I have no Home.
Home was coming back to you,
every day and night,
knowing that you were waiting for me.
Now that you are gone,
I have no home,
not even a semblance of one.
Home was listening to the beat of your heart,
in the dead silence of the night,
beating just for me.
Home was the smile on your face,
the memory of us,
the happiness we shared.
But you tore my Home apart,
and gave it to another;
what am I left with?
I have no Home,
no place to return to,
where shall I go?
I wish Home would just go back to the way it w
from rain to death. by xxcolor-my-worldxx, literature
Literature
from rain to death.
Rain dances upon my skin.
Teeth nip on my earlobe.
Flowers upon my grave.
Steam rises in the air.
Curves upon curves, mold.
Tear-stained shadows.
Smoke fills the sky with wisps.
Whispers in my ear and in my heart.
Bible read aloud, soul is abdicated.
The streets are shining, and clear.
Bodies twist in ecstasy, sleek and serpentine.
Dirt is piled upon dirt, and I am no longer me.
But the rain.
And the lust.
So there is death.
Tell me something quiet, you
asked, so I did. I told you the
day I skipped school because I
hated the look of the carpet
so I walked out of the doors
by the cafeteria until I found
the forest. and then I hit the
forest path and I kept walking.
It was February. I was alone.
There was a waterfall frozen
rigid and when I hurled all of
my emotions through a stone it
shattered into a million tiny
grains of sparkling crystal sand
Tell me something green. A boy
with a coin stood in the market
when he spotted the smile of the
beautiful girl and he didn't even
hear the clink and the splash as
it slipped quicksilver fast between
the
I met you. I didn't meet you. I met you again. We laughed. I laughed. You laughed. We laughed again. We found meaning. We looked at little things. We talked. We loved. We looked at worlds in different perspectives. We understood eyes being windows to souls. I liked yours. You thought mine were pretty. We found balconies insipid. We found doorways ironic. We thought stars were overrated. We circled around discomfort. We circled around love. We circled and circled and circled...and then you told me you loved me. We smiled. You asked me to run with you. You told me time and space were ours to take. We were invincible. Stars became ours. Ours bec
"What are you afraid of?" He had asked her as they lay there, under a bay window that showed a velvet black sky, sprinkled with sparkling diamonds. After a few minutes, a hand reached out and took his. He looked down at the soft hand, paper white with rivulets of sapphire under the skin. It had never occurred to him just how much he loved her hands until now.
"Would you like the truth? Or will a lie suffice?" A dulcet voice whispered. She had still not turned to look at him, but her hand in his remained strong.
"The truth." He always asked her for the truth. He didn't want rubies of falsehood, of lies, to ruin what they had taken so long to
"You need to stop doing this."
"Stop doing what?"
"Writing me into your stories."
"...why?"
"Because it scares me. I'm not this guy that you write about. I'm not some kind of Prince Charming and I'm certainly not a sea God or whatever you like to say about my eyes every now and then."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. You really need to work on your judgement of people, because this is all wrong. It's like you don't know me at all!"
"So why don't you correct me and I'll fix my idea of you accordingly."
"Well firstly, I'm a really nervous person."
"Yeah. Your hands are either fiddling with your hair or your sleeve, or you're biting y
He sleeps like a child without a voice. (And she listens like a child who cannot hear.)
He dreams like a stranger on a train. (And she watches like another fixated by his thoughts.)
He sighs like the first whisper of a rainstorm. (And she understands like the eve of the storm.)
He breathes like tomorrow is his last day. (And she reminds him that he will live longer than ever.)
He sings like a bird in the winds of the forest. (And she understands the sweetness of every note.)
He cries like the downpour in the desert. (And she climbs to the ends of the earth to make him smile.)
He loses his way like a deer out of the forest. (And she gui
It takes 14 minutes and twelve seconds to walk to your home from mine every day. Your mother never fails to smile at me when she opens the door. I never fail to notice that it doesn't reach her eyes anymore.
You leave your door open an exact two point three centimeters. I don't think you do it on purpose. There is something wrong with the wood that has left it that way. I pause one foot outside the door and listen to you cough, trying to determine how sick you feel today. I hate that every time I think you are particularly ill, I am always right.
Six months, seventeen days and fourteen hours. That is how long its been since the d
Dear (name will be left unsaid),
Please don't leave me in your past.
I'm starting off this letter with exactly what is on my heart. I won't work my way into it, I won't give an explanation beforehand, I'm just going to say what's going to come.
Please don't leave me in your past. Please don't forget about me. Please don't stop talking to me. That is my biggest fear right now. I can't bear to go on without you, and I mean it. I've lost too many friends, but you're not even a friend. You're so far past friend, so far past best friend; I don't know what category to put you into. I told you I couldn't live without you, and I honestly can't. I'