I love everything about you. I love your smell, from the way your cologne and deodorant sticks to your freshly washed skin to the way your natural musk smells when you sweat through a hot summer night stuck to me. I love how your skin is always soft, it brushes up against my thighs and cheeks like a blanket of the highest quality. Your voice is deep, but comforting and I adore all the sounds your body makes, especially the little grunts and sighs. When you speak soft words in my ear, I just melt into soft butter and I even love the way your silly words tease me, even when I get upset. Your bone structure is manly, but in a way that your body wraps around mine ideally when we hug. The way your eyes sparkle in the sunshine is like fairy dust and I could get lost in your gaze forever.
Your hand fits into mine perfectly and your tongue twists perfectly with mine when our lips collide. The movement of your hips with mine is like a metronome to my heart. All you could do is sleep and eat and I would never get tired of watching you. If you were a colour, you would be your favourite, purple, because it represents devotion, pride, mystery, magic and nobility. If you were a smell, it would be freshly cut grass on an early summer morning. Most people would say love feels like a sunny summer day, but ours is like one of those spring days where the temperature is fit for flowy dresses, but the sky is filled with some dark clouds that pass in the evening and there is a slight warm wind breezing through everyone's hair. Every single evening when you tell me you love me over the phone my stomach flutters with butterflies. As an item, you would be my favourite comfy old sweater. I love every single imperfection on your skin and in your soul. If I were to describe hanging out and having fun with you, the closest thing I could compare it to is the first bite of a freshly baked warm cinnamon pastry. I used to hate the idea of life, but if we were to create a family I would actually want to grow old with you. If there exists a heaven, it would be us sharing a fresh lemonade and chuckling next to a lake where tiny birds chirp and eat the crumbs of the bread we baked together. If you were a drink, you would be high quality whiskey and lastly, if you were a person, you would be mine.

name,
class,
professor,
date.

intro.

i believe i am quite burnt out.

conclusion,
bibliography.

I had a dream where I was in the middle of the sea on a small boat sailing to the unknown. I do not know if there was another soul accompanying mine, I may have seen a shadow or felt a presence. But I was struck by the awe beauty of the sun gracefully setting before me, it was bright lavender-pink. How divine! How perfectly sublime that scene was. But only I witnessed it. Alone, abandoned, and abhorred.

I looked around me for a clue of where I might be, but there was nothing. Nothing but a sea of crashing waves, and the still water underneath me. I, lost in a sea of nothingness without a compass nor a destination. Without a soul to soothe my frantic heart. Nor the tender touch of a lover’s hand gently pressed on my aching skin. But the sky was greater than my melancholy! It spreads like an endless cry, and its silent echo pierced my heart. I may have found peace for a brief moment there.

I then noticed the shimmering water that had scattered flickers of gold from the sun’s reflection, and I ardently longed to drink its glittering movement. Every glittery drop of water was solely trying to carry my heavy ocean of grief. I came to realize that when the sun and water kissed, the color gold was born. The sun’s final act of love was to surrender itself to the sea. To willingly drown in it. To melt into it; completely, each night. At dusk the two will always merge into one another—

But I, what was I to offer? Who was I to surrender myself to during love’s hour? Into whose arms shall I melt? I saw only insomnia’s fiendish grin when I tried to sleep. The never-ending night passes through me with its sharp silence leaving open wounds. Sometimes, it swallows me, and I remain consumed for months in its cruel solitary darkness. Ever since, I grew to fear the sun’s mournful absence, and I worshipped its light like a sunflower

—My anguished soul wished to cease this heavenly dream for eternity, and hold it close to my tormented flesh till I am healed. For I have never felt such profound waves of sadness and serenity. And before I awoke, I thought, “Even the sea cannot bring me consolation”.

I am bamboozled.
The instructions are
a monotonous contradiction.

For every tale
I read of traitorous bloodlust,
of holy hypocrisy,
my motivation to finish
this ****** bibliography
escapes my body,
flailing itself into
the constellations.

I am left nothing more
then a gelatinous sack,
a sorrowful student
resembling some
squashed cranberries.

People say to me, “How can you believe in God? You must know it’s all just a fairytale.”

And this is my reply:

Have you ever slept in the woods with no lantern, no light, and all the stars and moonlight blocked by the treetops? Then you know what darkness is, you know what fear and uncertainty are. That was my life. I lived in that Night. I can’t explain what years of darkness feel like as a child but it felt like a never ending night-terror that I endured alone.

Hearing God speak to me was a beam of moonlight piercing through the dark and scattering the branches to come and meet with me. He met with me in my deepest pain & loneliness, and He has ever walked with me since. I’ve never known a soul so faithful or kind, so easily pleased or so quick to forgive. He is the deepest, wildest, strangest sort of Lover.

So call me a fool for believing that Someone so marvelous could exist, and naive that He would notice me, and absurd that He would even go as far as to love me. There were moments I thought it too wonderful as well. But can you see why I would fling my life into His arms? Can you see why I’d trust Him with all my life, my soul, my heart? Can you blame me for giving Him everything I have and calling it too small a gift?

While my fragile frame still wanders here, I will be His with every inch of me I have to give. And should He take me tomorrow or decades yet to come, I will fall into His embrace with a sigh of long-suffering finally eased.

He is not so different from a fairytale because He is too strange and wonderful to explain. Almost too much to believe. But until you’ve felt the moonbeam fall across your face and your spirit quickened by its touch, and heard a silvan voice murmur through the windless trees, don’t be too quick to disbelieve.

——————————————————
This is not a complete prose-y/essay yet. I’m still mulling it over but I thought I’d share what I have so far. Feedback always welcome!

**no image because I haven’t found one I like yet

The stars sparkle like
LED lights
Hung upon the walls of a celestial dorm
A college student in the skies
studies the small creatures below
She writes her essays on myths
that humans told long ago
Her professor grades the paper
judging not on fact, but on prose
Classmates chat in the halls
About classes, about dating, about parties
But the lunar lady continues watching
with a cautious eye
As we go about our daily lives

My life is in shambles.
As destitute as that essay...
For English. This sounds wrong...