I love the curl of your lips into a smile
I love the curve of your shoulders as they drop down
I love the pools and dips of your neck, where you could hide your secrets
I love the softness of your eyes, that invite me in
I love your strength,
I love the curls of your hair- you should be proud to be blessed with them
I love how soft your skin feels
I love how I can sometimes catch a glimpse of your muscles peeping through that beautiful casing of skin
I love your teeny tiny waist,
I love the strength and curvature of your ribs
I love your acne-marked skin that's simply evidence that you are growing and expanding as a person.
-- About time I wrote something about the person I should love most of all: ME.
And you have to be patient with me;
give me a chance to answer; give me a chance to open up...
cause I think you might be worth opening up to.
Everything’s different with you.
I like to trace the outlines,
The hills and the crevices,
Every curve that frames your features.
The flicker of your long lashes,
That crease at the corners you could call a smile,
Just watching them all ripple and sway,
As the expressions flash onto the canvas.
And here I am,
Captivated by the artist at work.
There's this saying my mother once told me; it might not translate very well, but it's about unachievable goals and goes like this;
Don't have nights.
I could spend a lifetime chasing waves and sunsets,
Or skies full of stars,
Scaling mountains with glorious views,
Or trailing lakes and rivers to murmur along with,
But they all seem to whisper the same;
Wouldn't I be EVEN more beautiful if I was shared?
I don’t love you.
You’re so annoying, I couldn’t possibly love you.
I don’t even know what love is, so how could I possibly love you…?
I don’t love you when I slip into bed at midnight, and you pull me sleepily into your arms.
I don’t love you when you’re awake and gazing at me with those adoring blue eyes.
I don’t love you when you whisper how wonderful I looked tonight, when we’re alone, in the dark.
I don’t love you when you ask me to kiss you again, because the first time just wasn’t enough.
I especially don’t love you when I have a draining cold, and you tell me my voice sounds ****.
And I definitely don’t love you when your fingers slink between mine, unnoticed, when we’re watching the television.
I certainly don’t love you when you ‘accidentally’ kiss my nose and it sends a shiver down my spine.
I’ve got all the evidence.
I’m glad I’m so certain of how much I don’t love you.
There are words
and there are signs,
at our futility.
Why, do you try
and gather up my hopes
Only to send them crashing
Wont you hold me
Or take my hand
And look into my eyes
And tell me that you care
When you’re gone,
I miss you,
And I have no reason why.
I wish I knew
How to get you out of my mind.