If I lied to you for just one more day, will you promise to stay longer? If I told you I had no intention to keep that promise I made to you last night, after we tossed out all the pillows and the blanket that covered bits of our exposed vulnerable souls tattooed with scars and bruises, will you promise to still kiss me in the morning and mean it? Will you promise to love me even after the glow from my eyes have disappeared in to the night and in its place, a darker, eerier fog claims them?
I’ll promise to not rip your heart right out of its cage you’ve trapped it in for so long. Instead, I’ll lure it. I’ll dance a thousand dances under the bright moonlight until the thudding heart bursts out of the metal bars of its prison and runs straight in to my open palms. I’ll sing a Robin’s song until you’re convinced I’m nothing but good things and charm. I’ll write you novel after novel until the rapid thudding slows down to a much slower, comfortable rhythm. I will try with all that’s left in me, to not squeeze it too tight.I will try to let it breathe, just enough to keep you alive. I will try to keep it beating.
But I can’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.
Your voice vibrated against my skin.
Each molecule thudding and bursting against themselves creating a mild havoc within the fibre that held the parts of me together. They ran fast through my fingers, making each nerve feel electric at your touch. I’ve never felt a spark before, except this was almost too real. Too electric. Was it possible to be electrocuted by a touch that was so magnifying that you knew it would be the eventual death of you? Was it crazy to want it more each day,despite that it?
I was fascinated at the melody your tongue could muster up. Both through lyrics and against my own. It wasn’t just a moonlight werewolf howling hair standing on your arm, kind of fascination that you managed to drum up in my veins. It was much more.
Although, words seem to fail me at this precise moment. I am positive there will be a day when I could finally describe with much reverie and passion; what it is you’ve brought upon me. Maybe it will be a beautiful damned destruction or maybe it’ll be salvation.
She stole kisses that were only meant to fall on my lips. She stole hugs from the arms that were designed to hold my trembling body steady. Arms that were meant to fit around me. She stole smiles from him and never considered to pass them to me. I was here, away from him, holding a fragment of his heart in my quivering,sweaty palms, blinking away tears as I wondered if maybe; just maybe, you’d given her the bigger parts of your heart for her to hold?
And when I love, I will love till the Eskimos huddled together in their igloos hear me pine for you. I will love so fiercely that they will mistake me for a lion. I will love so loudly that you wont be able to hear yourself think. I will shout your name to anyone that will listen and I will confess to them how my veins carry more blood than they should when I’m around you. I will explain with every word in the dictionary; the rush you give me.
To anyone that wont listen, I will show them the kind of love they only see in movies. I will bombard them with kisses from my cherished memories and you, until they can’t breathe and they’re begging me to stop. To anyone that doesn’t believe, I will torment them with pictures of our love until they get sick with jealousy.
And to you, my ever darling love,
To you, I will dance with the grace of a goddess and love you with the strength of ten.
I won’t promise you the sun, moon and stars darling. For I don’t dare to offer you things I’ve no grasp of. I only have my own world to offer you. I will promise you that my whole beating heart that thuds louder and louder as you get closer to me, will be yours. I will promise you all the kisses my lips can ever muster up. I will promise you the biggest bear hug for each time you need one and for each time you don’t.
He was the storm I wasn’t prepared for. The kind that sweeps you off your feet and destroys everything around you in the process. The kind that places a 9 ton anchor in your life just to mark their presence and leave almost instantly, leaving you to stare in awe and bewilderment at the hole you’ve seemingly dug to bury yourself.
Submerged in dirt; knees deep and begging you to destroy what you left behind, I was screaming at the blue skies to bring you back.
It was beautiful and disastrous and I wanted more.
I wanted more distraction. More misery. More love.
More of everything related to you.
His force, like a gust of strong wind toppled me over. And I, a usually strong, sturdy, sensible person, fell over.
Crashing to the floor and slamming against walls, and the only thing I had to hold on to; during this whirlwind of a hurricane that I began to crave like an addiction; was your hands that seemed to fit perfectly around the curves of my body. As you traced my skin with your heavy breathing and finger tips, I couldn’t help but notice, that they found a place to call home.
As you tossed your arms around my quivering body, determined to shelter my shaking bones from the beautiful damnation of yourself, we tossed and twirled in a dizzy state of confusion. Beautiful and disastrous at the same time.
He was a storm that I didn’t want to end. He was a storm that I wanted every day. He was a perfect storm.
It was a fancy turn of events.
I didn’t know we’d fall so hard
Crashing to the concrete floor of our insanity,
Bruising not just limb, but also the pounding organ protected by our fragile ribs
that begged for release.
Oblivious of the ache in our bones, from the clumsy fall,
We drank till we were sober enough
to consume each other’s rushed tongues.
A moment turned to 3
when you kissed me,
A kiss turned to infinity
when I felt your smile creep along my skin;
As the sun peeped through the spaces in the curtains,
Eager to unveil the story behind the rumpled sheets and strewn clothes.
Hungover and drunk at the same time
We buried ourselves longer in the mess;
not anticipating the day ahead but reveling in it’s precious moment.
I could talk about the temperature of your skin better than the rapid change in the weather outside; that was starting to get cold enough to wear a thick woolen jacket.
I could talk about the warmth of your lips better than the warmth my feet would feel when it’s all snuggled up in 3 layers of socks and my favourite brown boots.
I could talk about the way your tongue brings me home, better than my mom’s Christmas cake that she made from scratch with raisins and brandy and love.
I could talk about that lock of hair that gets swished to the other side of your head on a windy night when you’re out for a stroll; better than reciting my favourite poem.
I can’t do the alphabet backwards, but I can memorize every scar and birthmark and remember it off the tip of my tongue. And if anyone were to ask what my favourite parts of you were, I would start with your eyes and then the birthmark on your collar-bone and then your small lips and then maybe the cute birthmark that I imagined you’d have on your derrière.
I could talk about how I fell in love with winter my entire life and then openly and proudly cheated on it with you. I have loved winter for as long as I could remember, from the cold winds to the warm liquids that make you feel like a Christmas tree inside.
But now, I could only love winter as much as I loved you.