When did the air of romance die?
When did the beautiful words that spilled out poetically cease to exist?
When did it become that, the part of tonight where all we did was lay there in each others arms- quietly, silently, sleepy- become the part I worried most about you disliking.
The part where our souls were closest, why did my heart feel obliged to ask you if you were bored?
The romance isn't gone, I know that, I can feel it sometimes when you look at me (though sometimes I have to wonder if that's only the boredom) I know it's still there, but the world of modern days likes to come in and corrupt it sometimes.
Like some days, I miss the nights where we talked until we fell asleep.
Or how we told each other everything.
Or when he told me that he loves me because I struggle.
and how beautiful I was.
I mean,
Im definitely not complaining about the kissing, don't even get me wrong, I love that part, but I like when we share our souls with each other. Our hearts. When he opens up to be vulnerable to me... I feel like its been a while...
like my poetic words are stuck behind a barrier that has been built up by football players and a brother and prettier girls and things that I ***** up. (which happens much too often.)
I could let them flow free, and oh! how beautiful they would be.
How perfectly I could describe to him the way he makes me feel when he touches my cold body with his warmth and how he looks when he leans in to kiss me.
Or his eyes.
His wonderful, green-blue, ocean, kaleidoscope eyes.
but I feel awkward for thinking the things and the way I do.
Like my words would come out and feel awkward and void of reality
instead of beautiful and touching.
So I just keep quiet and hope he looks at me as if he had almost lost me
and wish for him to love being with me.