The kind of love they write poems about.
That's what came to me when I fell for you.
It's the kind that makes my toes curl when I think of you.
It makes me smile and blush when I hear your name.
It makes me crave your thouch and kisses.
It makes me believe I can do anything when I'm around you. When you stare into my eyes.
The kind of love they write poems about.
It makes my stomach tighten when thinking of losing you.
It makes me want to hold on tight because this kind of love isn't worth the heartbreak.
Is it?
Now I am crying all alone.
Writing a poem about you.
I wish this was a happy poem.
The kind of love they write poems about.
Madness.

Like caterpillars that rise
to the bliss of the blue skies
from the chrysalis of mortality
on the wings of the fairy butterflies,
we leave the shackles of your body
to embrace its kindred souls of dust, and
migrate to eternity’s solemn splendour.

Are we afraid?
are we afraid to explore the skies of eternity ?

I’d pay the price for one night with you
an arm, a leg, I love you through and through
like tissue paper my tears soak through and through
I would steal the sun
and hide it away.
Your eyes are diamonds
They hide a glow that only I know
your words wrap me in silk
your touch a thrill
can’t sit still
for butterflies
in you a flame that cannot die.

When I look at you,
you give me butterflies,
a flower garden springing,
a rush in my body, so
explosive yet still,
a feeling I haven’t felt in a while.

When I look at you,
bringing out a smile,
so genuine, flirty, lingering
glued shut in my mind,
wishing I was brave to say,
“it looks so **** good on you”.

When you look at me,
I catch you with mine.
I see you staring
with your sparkling, buzzed
hazy brown eyes, my heart races
as the crowd blurs,
the voices muffled,
an unbroken gaze, breathing deeply into
the split seconds we hold.

When you look at me,
a series of stolen glances
is all it is, with us thieves.
Wasted, only to look in my eyes for
a fleeting, hot, one-time moment,
but I was looking for a lifetime in yours.

When I look at you,
it’s like gold dust, uncommon.
Only to look from a distance but
never stare, as I can’t have
but only glimpses of you.

When you look at me,
I only hope,
it’s the way I look at you.

Dance through the realm of
space and time, gliding
through the stars and
jumping over moon, sun and more

The hem of sunlit dress flutters as
the skies comes alive
with clouds of swallowtails;
sweet shimmering shards of diamonds

Let us spiral around
and laugh in symphony
Reach out our hands
Come, meet me at the outskirts
of Andromeda

My lips await you