The rain had always been something enchanting to me. Not the romantic, heart and flowers type, but in a different way. It felt as if the Big Guy above all of us were crying. Were despairing at the foolish sins and actions we mortals committed. Either way, it struck me as a wonder of the nature. The rain would bring in it's cold weather, inside which I would feel warm. The aftermath of a shower would be this sweet, earthy smell. It bewitched me. The beads of water upon flower petals were quietly dramatic. Perhaps, a moment for a photo shoot. The sun would shine down after the rain, but there would be nothing hot or sticky about it. The atmosphere would be pleasantly damp, and it would give me the spirit of a dreamy poetess.
Moss-laden bricks of grey-orange, fitting as guards on the threshold. Behind the fool’s-ancient wrought-iron gates. Where rows upon rows of crumbling mounds stood in various interpretations of upright, their pores bathing in light from an ill moon, ailing. Porous trees hunched over most of the void spared by the sickening light’s expanse, plunging the rest in healthy shadow. The place echoed.
To enter, I must skirt around a pile of wet leaves. Today there is no weather; there is no wind, just howling. The temperature is of a mild apparition and so I hear the winds company more so. The leaf barbs that bar nefarious entrance are of little consequence to my apt overage and the grey-orange guards do little but deposit their dust upon me and my cloth.
I'm not into rules, creative types aren't, are we? But lover, I will tell you this because I want us to last into eternity. I won't share you. I can't. I'm built for many things but polyamorous situations aren't one of them. My lover is the centre of my world, my everything. Together we take care of one another, take care of the kids, have a good life with friends and family. But a man such as yourself will have women after him, of course you are. So, no affairs either physical or emotional - and you get the same from me for always. So, that's my hard rule. If that's not okay then we part ways before this begins. I'd prefer that to a broken heart because I'm already in love with you. Going deeper is only fair to one another if we want the same thing.
Peanut butter was one of those ingredients I always found appealing. It could be savoury or sweet, yet it brought comfort either way.
They who colonised the land, who evolved from the sea, took from the oceans as if it mattered not if other big mammals, their relatives in creation, died or thrived. The marine life needed their land-dwelling brethren to take on the responsibilities of protection such kinship brings.
Against the dark night sky all Steve could see was the crumbling walls that were nothing more than a ghostly silhouette of some previous existence. The wind whistled through the trees bringing with it the laughter of children who once lived there and the caring call of a mother letting them know dinner was ready.
Vividly he could picture his childhood. The walls didn’t seem so grey when he was only a boy, nor did they seem so small. In his mind he pictured this place as though it were a castle where he and his brother were the Princes. His mother and father would glide through the once pristine halls, the King and Queen of their kingdom. He felt like no time had passed since he moved from this house, yet as he gazed upon the overgrown bushes and the shattered windows it was evident just how wrong he was.
I don't have the slightest inkling about what happened to my cold and calloused heart. You felt like family the instant I met you. Is this passion or misery; how do I convey this unusual feeling?
When I met you, it felt like my day bloomed beautifully. Who knows where we are going?; I have left all that to my heart.
Whichever path I travel, I want only you. You are my supplement; I am yours too!
Thank you, my dear; this heart is yours from now on. How is this new feeling? Name it like you want.
I don't know anything else- you are the one who understands me so well. I have never seen the craze I have in anybody else, other than you! My morning starts with you, my evenings end with you. I will not lose you from my vision; I will give you all you want; you just give me yourself.
I just crave this amazing company you give me. I just worship you.
Every time I exercise it's as if sensible "me" is dragging lazy "me" in on a rope. Sensible me wants to be in shape, lazy me wants more and more tv time... I gotta be in sensible me's corner on this. I gotta.
I ache when I see you smile.
I want it to be directed towards me. For me. Because of me. I want to bring you joy; be the source of those lit eyes and dimpled cheeks. I watch you bring so much happiness to those around you. Feel the warmth you’ve given me.
You show me how to find beauty in a cruel world.
You try so hard to do so well. You worked hard. You fought for every step; even if it wasn’t always in the right direction. You wanted to fly and now you’re soaring. I’m afraid. I’m so afraid you’ll crash. That I’ll have to watch it happen. I ache to think there’s no way for me to help if you do.
I still watch you.
Sometimes it becomes a source of guilt. If I have no place in your life, why do I keep following you like this? If you noticed, I’m scared what you’d think of me. I've never been heartbroken before. For that I’m sometimes glad I know you won’t.
We’ll never meet. That’s probably a good thing.
If we met, if we spoke; what would you think of me? That’s what scares me the most. Sometimes I’m left wondering if it’s better we don’t meet. Maybe it would be better if I let you fade from my life, back out of it like you were never there.
But I can’t let go.
Did you ever read the words I did, the ones a child hasn’t forgotten? ‘Kindred spirits’. They make me think of you. Is that truth or my wish? My instinct is that it’s true. But in the same thought I know we wouldn’t agree. The same thoughts or feeling but with a different approach?
I want to be there. I write late into the night because of how much I do. I want to hold your hand. To dry your tears. To take the pain and anger I know you hide. Yet here I sit typing without aim, watching through a screen. To develop an unattainable desire wasn’t wise. I knew it when I started. But we keep moving. Has it been two years already?
The ache won’t fade.
The berries come to the autumnal air as the blooms come to the spring, in a triumphant hurrah of colour.
Upon the honour of my breath, upon my noble brow, I say to thee that comest knights that will defeat any storm with but a glowing ember.
