Behold! The agony of love,
Relished through receipts
Hidden
In the leather folds of
Pocketed wallets, and
Phantom habits exposed
In ordinary scenes,
Perhaps
On the beachside street
Where
The wind took control
And all witnessed
Blossoms in Spring.

Behold! The agony of love,
Laying dormant
At
The edge of every smile, and
In the gaps
Between stationery fingers
Where others
Once lay, or perhaps
In the words
That come knocking
When we fail to see the door
Ourselves.  

Behold! The agony of love,
Leaving you at a ponder,
Do I waver?
Do I waver?
In the face of love. Or
Shall I trudge ever on
With my naive heart, and
Veteran grasp?

And so I waver, and so
I waver; but the
Face is anew, and we
Trudge on.

nothing have i ever laid my eyes on something so tender and soft; the palm of his hand, and the tone he used as he speaks.

no matter how far i’ve wandered around, the string of mine goes back to him, a man whose existence caught my existence, 3 years ago, at Brighthelm.

something was giggling merrily inside of me the moment i was with him. it was my inner little girl, she was happy. a man that is so serene, a safe place to be with, and a situation where finally she doesn’t have to be in a survival mode. she couldn’t ask for more; that’s what she craves for. that’s enough. that’s enough for the rest of her life.

but she murmured, and asked me, will we ever be able to see him again? a part of me highkey wish to say “yes” but fate is something that’s not under my control, so, “i don’t know. we will see. but let’s just pray.”