I thought the sky was clear once more, That I am healed from a bleeding sore But it seems like each “okay” is a heavy sigh, A sharpening blade, an inner lie
I'd write about raging fires and seas, I'd wander on how things might be Within I'd wander for the right words, All while my hands shiver relentlessly For years I'm trying to create the perfect poetry, But now your here, and it's all I'll ever need.
I want to feel your warmth, I want to feel wanted for once I want to stare in your soul and understand the entire you as much as you want to be a part of mine. We will be the light in each other's darkness. I want to be the one who will say that it's okay. That you're okay. I want to feel your breath like my whole world depends on it. I want to write about you everytime I got the chance to. My words will be composed of your touch. Your late night calls. Your reckless plans. You.
I want to be a part of your story, too much that it kills us both.
Inside me is a whirlwind of emotions that no one not even you could understand, it's not that I expect you to.
Stuck within are the moments that remind me how weak I still am even though I am trying my best to be strong. Your snide remarks don't ever help at all, just verifying these demons in my head.
My hands shake while my entirety submerges into a cold sea of unwanted yet written memories.
So this is what it'd feel like every year, Well at least now I know.