How would I describe her?
She’s an angel, I would say.
You’d probably be better off if you just packed up right now and went home. You don’t have a chance.
She’s smarter than you, wittier than you, certainly prettier than you.
She has a lovely exterior, but she’s known pain and hurt and it still lives in her to a great degree. The way she expresses herself reveals it at every turn. She’s very smart and expresses herself very well – highly articulate, practical and insensitive. She’s deep and dark, perhaps even frighteningly so, in ways. She needs love, she needs a lot of love. Give it to her – you’ll find that it will be well worth it, for she’s capable of great love and devotion.
She will spar with you…to test you. Be aware of this and be wary, for she’s very capable and mighty. She wields a swift sword. She is very well armed. She’s a formidable opponent. She’s quick, she’s strong. She’s quite powerful…alluringly seductive, and expertly skilled at using her powers.
I’ll say it again. I don’t think you have any idea of what you’re getting into.
How would I describe her?
She’s an angel, I would say
I would say she confuses me, but that would be too weak. She intrigues me. I feel I could know her for a hundred years and still only catch small glimpses of who she really is. Just have a few pieces of the puzzle lined up.
I would say that my fascination and love of puzzles was all that drew me to her, but that would be a lie. There is too much fondness for that. There is physical attraction as well, but that is irrelevant, I could feel that attraction to any beautiful women without dwelling on it. My fondness for her is different. I would call it love, but how can I really love something I don’t understand? Something that continues to confuse me? But the fondness is still there, strong, and unexplainable.
Despite the fact that I cannot grasp who she truly is, I trust her. One of the small puzzle pieces I have gathered shows me that she is a valuable friend, one who would not betray me,so I trust her. I hope she trusts me as much in return, but that is another of her mysteries. She thinks of me as a friend, but that is all I know of her feelings towards me, or anyone.
I wouldn’t say i don’t know why, but i surely don’t know when i fell in love with her, was it love or just the concern and affection i had for her, bits by bits. Ins’t that stupid? But every second made me believe that I knew her. Like she was my closest friend. The kind of person you can tell anything to, no matter how bad, and they’ll still love you, because they know you. And all i ever wanted was for this unnamed, unsaid thing to work. I wanted her to see me. And when the time came she stopped noticing. Like i never existed. We planned every bit of her life but i was not in her plan. Everyday our paths collide. In her eyes I see her telling me something; I don’t know. Or probably she doesn’t even know i am there. But I’ll always love her. All my life.
My lips have been sealed,
with glue from the loss
of lover’s imagination, from
waking up in a sweat of
nightmares filled with
darkness, gasping for air
as if I have been drowning
this whole time in the middle
of the ocean, how much more
will I have to endure as
the record plays a broken
song on repeat, same story
same antagonist different day.
My heart can’t help but ache. Sometimes, I believe it’s a mind over heart concept. In my mind I know that if she isn’t the person I’m supposed to end up with, someone better will come along but my heart is telling me that I don’t want that to happen, it’s settled on her. My mind knows that I want to end up with a girl who is going to love me to pieces, every big, small, sharp, hard, and sweet piece. I’ve done all I could do, I chiseled a hole into my chest and offered him my heart, I told her exactly what I want and the way I saw the next year playing out and the hard work I was willing to do in order for us to be together. I’ve nudged her hoping she’d respond. I still haven’t doubted what I feel and what I believe to be between us. It’s so hard to explain to anyone else but I think our hearts have a language of their own that isn’t easily translated into words we are able to understand and that is where poetry attempts in a small way to express. Despite her silence (and I know she’s extremely busy with her friends and activities) my heart stutters and still clings to what I know and how she makes me feel and what she’s said to me. My heart has tried to tell me she’s nothing but excuses and red flags. I’m clenching onto the hope she gave me to be what I know in my heart. My heart is made up. My mind is made up. I offered her everything. I think there is an explanation to the fact that she hasn’t responded, I’ve never felt so sure about someone. Maybe I am fooling myself and maybe she has a hammer behind her back waiting to smash my heart into bruises and blood but I’ve risked it all. I stripped myself down completely vulnerable and told her I was ready to fall in love and to hold her in my arms. Now all I can do is wait. And I’m waiting and I’m suffocating. I know what I want. HER. Now I just need to find out if I’m what she wants. In my heart I feel like she’s echo what I wrote her, but as more time passes, I fear the worst and I’m not worth the wait and fight. Someday, I know I will be, but this is today, this is now. She’s what I want but I can’t want it fully without her.
So I wait. …………….