Maybe it was the way the sun caressed the land below it,
or the way the clouds danced together across the sky.

Maybe it was the way the wind whispered its greatest secrets,
or the way the flowers stretched their arms in the warm spring air.

Maybe it was the way he danced in the meadow;
so care-free and alive.

Maybe it was the way he looked at me;
like even God was blinded by my beauty.

Maybe it was the way he held me;
like someone was going to ****** me up at a moments notice.

Maybe it was the way he loved me;
strong and firm like an oak tree,
wild and free like the waves crashing against the shore,
loyal and passionate like a king fighting for his kingdom's safety,
soft and caring like a mother to her newborn child.

Maybe it was the way I loved him;
more than any words in any language could ever express,
more than any action could express.

Maybe it was the way these things made me feel happiness.

Maybe it was the way they made me feel okay.

c.r.k.

every time he didn't answer, i died a little inside.

Maybe he's busy,

saving a life,

dancing in the rain,

falling in love with a stranger,

kissing in cars,

climbing a tree,

writing a novel,

driving to Disney,

but all he was doing was forgetting me.

c.r.k.