it’s roughly 11:29pm and i have you roaming around in my mind, then again what else is new?
i can imagine you humming along to these tunes while you tangle your fingers in my already so easily tangled hair and i’d count the minutes you spend trying to untangle yourself from me - limbs and all while you’re at it
before you left you made it a point to tell me about how i was like the light of your day and maybe i just might have imagined the caffeine scent that hangs over every single word that spills out of your beautiful mouth in that ridiculous accent of yours. you’re ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. i love the way you make shades of blue seem more vivd and i love the way it curves in to rest against my shoulders as i find inklings of you along the sleeves, almost as if you’re right here next to me. i’d fall asleep in an ocean with dreams as succulent as honey oozing from your lips, catching myself saying ‘good morning’ to a silhouette as i realise that i just may have left just enough space for you to slip your arms around my waist as you pull me close enough to rid the glass between our eyes
i’d like for that to happen again sometime, if you don’t mind and i’m sure you don’t judging by your sleepy murmurs that i manage to piece a ‘i wish you were laying here next to me’, out of when you dial me.
you asked me if i was angry at you, repeatedly, oddly enough you can’t help yourself on fridays. i brushed it off with a laugh and a roll of my eyes because you fail to realise that i could never stay angry at you because well, you make me feel so much more than that
[bullet train of emotions just rush into the gateway of my heart every time i lay my eyes on you]
anger is just my daily attire but you make me want to change into something new and that’s why i am so in love with you
in love with you.
maybe i’ll tell you when you ask me if I’m mad at you some friday of a week.
new years day, only someone like you would plan something right out of a reality television show and i wouldn’t switch channels to be honest, your heartbeat on my left as you leaned in and i don’t remember if i shut my eyes when yours graced mine but it was my first time and i know i play the blind card to it but i remember what exactly it felt like and how my heart was jumping out of chest and how you were trembling right against me as i asked you to kiss me again
[its been a few months and i still hesitate at the thought of kissing you because i’m so afraid of tripping up somewhere but it doesn’t make me want it any less because sometimes i feel like your sugar laced sweet every things could spill into me and i’d never forget how special you make me feel]
yes, i am aware that its ‘sweet nothings’ but anything you say means everything to me and maybe i don’t say it enough but the chance of you choking over my sweet abyss wasn’t a factor i would definitely let it slip out once in a while
you’ve asked me to describe what your scent was and well who would i be to say? i mean sure your scent clings onto my jacket no matter how many times it takes a spin in the wash almost like the thought of you contrasting against the carnival of fairy tale blue fairy lights i hang by the side of my bed, i’d like to imagine that you do the same, i’d like to imagine that you flip through the words left stranded in those pages i’ve spent days rewriting and taking minutes of my day to ensure that you’ll be able to read it - whenever you feel the blue from your clothes painting your spirit, i’d like to imagine that you curled up with your jacket at dusk the same way i did as i tried to dissect parts of me from you only to find that i really couldn’t
it’s the next day and 11:50pm, but you’re still on my mind,
“you’re like the light of my day i can’t get you out of my head sometimes,”
sometimes i flinch when someone makes contact with my side and my shoulders but for a second i think that it just might be you cause’ i’m so used to you pressed up so close to me as you run your nails down my side in the darkness that swallows me whole late at night as you pull me closer eyes still on the screen ahead of us as i learn to let go and take your palm in mine, running my fingers over yours delicately just to remind myself that you are here and you are mine and that this moment is ours and ours alone like the others i’d store in the attic of my mind whereby i’d use the fireflies as light to read off the water colouring you’ve left in my mind.
i know you’ve never called me yours apart from that one time whereby i couldn’t differentiate between the sincerity caught between the tides of those flamboyant words of yours that entraps me with every breath as i submerge under the tides.