No matter how hard she tried to distract herself,
his eyes were forever burned into her mind;
Hard, yet soft.
Relentless, yet hesitant.
Dark, yet filled with light.
Fearful, yet calm.
Emotionless, yet heavy.
She wanted to understand them,
to understand him.
She wanted to see him in person again,
not just in her head.
But all she could do was dream.
Everyday it’s the same thing being asked :
“Are you okay?”
And everyday it’s the same response:
“I will be...someday..”
Whose heart is that? I think I know. It’s owner is quite sad though. It really is a tale of great woe, I watch him frown. I cry a whispered hello.
He gives his heart a shake, and sobs until the tears make. the only other sounds that break. Of distant waves and birds awake.
The heart is dark, deep yet clear. But he has promised to keep. Until then he shall not sleep. he lies in bed with ducts that weep.
He rises from his bitter bed with thoughts of sadness in his head. He idolizes being dead. Facing the days with never ending dread.
My memories came back in the form of butterflies flying in a summer breeze. Looking at them closely, see the broken and full butterflies flying near, those are the one that carries the bad and depressing memories, notice how they stay close to me, how many there seems to be. Those are the only memories I can truly remember. They never seem to stray too far. Now looking further are the healthy, bright and colorful butterflies that fly beyond arms reach, they carry my happiest memories. Notice how little in numbers they are?
Every artist draws or paints the thing that means most to them.
Every artist chooses something beautiful to illustrate, and gives it meaning,
and for me, I chose you, cause out of everything the world had to offer you were what was most beautiful to me.
My dreams are a place of fantasy, its where everything isn't as it seems. Its where I can make myself beautiful. Why? Who knows, but me :)
It's the mirror in your bedroom that you sob into, wondering what is wrong with you that absolutely no one with talk to you. Its almost like it's mocking you, but it only states the truth. Its cold mostly. Its long winter days spent by yourself, curled up by a fire place, waiting, hoping for a phone call from a friend, or anyone. Its the sound of silence in a room full of people. Its the colors that dull after a long time and the feeling of nothing underneath your fingertips. This, this is what loneliness feels like.