The Beginning &. . .
I do not think I have ever told her how I felt when we first conversed and first met.
Our friendship was cyber
And although it was, it was an adage that I believed to be true,
Clearly the future was not something I knew nor bothered caring about, it had occurred to me that neither did she, but for some reason,
She always kept her window open,
I was energized by being alone,
My energy appeared to be drained by thinking of feelings and temptations of the heart which were things I rarely took time for.
I would sabotage any chance I had to tell her that the feeling was in fact mutual.
I was more concerned with the inner world of my mind than reaching out to her. She had found me at a point where I was simply trying to keep sane,
But she kept her window open,
I would stand outside her window, with my hands pressed against the glass, my fears fighting against the raindrops on the pane.
I knew what I felt and was still feeling,
But she was a flame I did not have the strength to keep alive.
A loving winter walking distance..
We finally met, she was beyond my mortal sight, her face alone enchanted my world-weary eyes
I stood outside her window once more, upon the glass laid previous marks of my hands.
I fell short of what I intended to do,
My expectations, set in stone.
I had started writing endlessly about her,
I was in a pile of
I was
I was?
I. . . Was getting good at loving her.
I had found a resting point upon her cheek.
My tongue would whimsically dance to the sound of the letters of her name,
I was still not done chewing on thoughts of her
I would have never thought we would be saying "I Love You" to each other.
All the other shitty love books I had written before will be rewritten over, with new chapters, new beginnings, in new handwriting
Because of my basic
All that being possible because, she kept her window open,
Open, for me :)
Our friendship was cyber
And although it was, it was an adage that I believed to be true,
Clearly the future was not something I knew nor bothered caring about, it had occurred to me that neither did she, but for some reason,
She always kept her window open,
I was energized by being alone,
My energy appeared to be drained by thinking of feelings and temptations of the heart which were things I rarely took time for.
I would sabotage any chance I had to tell her that the feeling was in fact mutual.
I was more concerned with the inner world of my mind than reaching out to her. She had found me at a point where I was simply trying to keep sane,
But she kept her window open,
I would stand outside her window, with my hands pressed against the glass, my fears fighting against the raindrops on the pane.
I knew what I felt and was still feeling,
Sparks fly, sparks flew,
But she was a flame I did not have the strength to keep alive.
A loving winter walking distance..
We finally met, she was beyond my mortal sight, her face alone enchanted my world-weary eyes
I stood outside her window once more, upon the glass laid previous marks of my hands.
I fell short of what I intended to do,
My expectations, set in stone.
I had started writing endlessly about her,
I was in a pile of
"should I?"And in a pool of
"maybe not"Everyday my guard would go down and I would let a piece of her into my mind.
I was
I was?
I. . . Was getting good at loving her.
I had found a resting point upon her cheek.
My tongue would whimsically dance to the sound of the letters of her name,
I was still not done chewing on thoughts of her
I would have never thought we would be saying "I Love You" to each other.
All the other shitty love books I had written before will be rewritten over, with new chapters, new beginnings, in new handwriting
Because of my basic
"I-am-happy-with-you & will-never-let-you-go" feeling,
All that being possible because, she kept her window open,
Open, for me :)
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