Holding your soft hands and dancing through sunrays around in circles as we smile and cherish each other's comfort through the loneliness in our hearts. Golden hour peaks and you sing through my treasure chest filled with open treasures of golden honey, and that honey drips down the surface of my fingertips as we kiss each other in a warm gleam of freedom and surpass realms of stars and dreams. The honey trickles our kisses and makes a sticky hot mess under the steaming sun as it begins to set through white fluffy clouds. Feeling high like cloud 9 I want to feel your chest pressed against mine, forever and key it into a lock that cannot ever be undone. I love you.
The memories we make feel like a never ending escape through Alcatraz. A portal so clean and pure.
Being in love, feels like you're high. p.s: I never been high, only high on love.
Oh all the words left unsaid- All the fits of anger, I twisted away under a bitten tongue. All the tears i didn't cry, stored in a vault in my heart. And yet we crammed all the 'what ifs' into a single, "Goodbye."
Yet, when he puts his hand on my waist, and pulls me in for the last fiery kiss I hold my breath for just a second- as if i could bottle this moment up into a single memory, and I could live there forever floating in his arms.
And I'll wonder if he thinks of me as the girl he could have loved all his life, or just a chapter of many lovers that he left unread.
Can I ask for love Without the romance Without the slow dance Without the holding of hands Give the kiss, a miss necklace and jewelries without the emotional abuse The manipulation we use like flowers or presents The chocolate selections The dinner pretension The relational misuse and the facade we choose When love in truth is the exception