Everytime You Smile It Feels Like I Am Bathing In The Warmth Of The Afternoon Sun, Slowly Disintegrating

Everything in this world has a place.

And more than often I feel like mine is beside you.

You tell me that you're loosing me a little bit each day.

How can I not feel lost, when you deny me of my home?

Where do I plant my heart, when you close the door to yours?

The worst battles of mine were about you, against myself,

being forever torn between wanting to stay and run away.

But as dawn approaches and the sun rises again,

I loose yet another fight.

I hope one day you can finally see me beside you.

One day, you will know that I've always been there.

That I never left, and never will.

Somedays I crave the touch of another in my soul. I need someone to understand all the chaos inside me but at the same time be intrigued by everything as well. I want to lay down my soul bare, like the musical notes on a white sheet of paper. And I hope someone who appreciates the melody comes along and picks me up. And when they start to hum the tune I have kept hidden in my depths for so long, I'll finally feel like I belong somewhere. Even if that somewhere is just the tip of their tongue or the curve of their lips.

splinters of infinity.

i wish you could see through my kaleidoscopic eyes; my skies are forever echoing your light. at first light, my tongue salivated for you. you stirred something in me, like falling for a poem at first verse. the heart is delicate in matters like this; heart-strings fraying from carrying an immense weight. i know how supple your verses are, that was given but what spurred me was how gently words blossomed on your tongue; you’d envelop the night with whispers of warmth. sometimes i’m convinced you’re celestial, the moons in your eyes seem to suggest so.   my tongue knows you by name, but the heart knows you by poetry. by one a.m. the night starts to settle in sleepy serenades. the moon is a burning ember we extinguished hours ago so we swallow the stars instead becoming starlit by our own premise. tidal silence; in waves came conversations that we peered into one another’s soul, other times we sat there simmering peacefully in the sounds of nighttime in downtown.   i think of your hands – still, wanting to lock my fingers between the gap in yours. perhaps i look fondly upon them since i know your mothers used hers to be destructive, and you’ve only used yours to be creative, nurturing, gentle, and soft. you could do a better job at kneading words into poetry.   we are verses tangled in the cosmos.

Like phases of the moon, I change the way I see the world. Sometimes it's too much yellow, all bright and beautiful and like the scenes from a ballroom.

And sometimes it's a tired white. With no life left in me to fight. I can feel the sighs of the earth. We share our tears, and I feel safe in her arms.

Every now and then it's green. Fresh and alive, looking like a newly bloomed daffodil. It brings back memories of past summers. A carefree world with a golden undertone.

I also see red sometimes. Like the scream of a banshee and the pain in their eyes. It reminds me of my first heartbreak. Drunk and hurting with heavy eyes, but a heavier heart.

But today all I see is grey. Like the monotonous susurration of the rain, it's killing me slowly, burying me alive. Seeping into me like I am a sponge.

This is why I hate gloomy rainy days.

It feels like I am half dead, but half alive.

I don't know where to belong.

....................................................................................................

The sky keeps pouring outside.

But all that my eyes see are worlds within each drop.

Each one looks so transparent and fragile.

And as they race each other against my window,

I silently cheer for the one that's slow.

Because I know how it feels to be last.

And because I know there's still a chance.

Who knows, maybe when the night becomes alight,

I'll stop seeing the world in blue.

Maybe when the stars come out and paint the sky,

the colours in my head will mix and blend.

And when they do so, I'll wait by the seashore.

Brush in my hand and music on my lips.

Holding my breath, in the fading sunlight.

Susurrations of my heart grows louder,

as I watch the sky being adorned in a soft pink.

© Moonyloonywitch

Honestly I don't know.

But maybe I love them because they feel like a part of me.

Like I am a puzzle and the pieces are scattered all over this world. As songs and paintings and poetry and plants. And like stars and moon and oceans and trees.

The things I love are the reflections of my soul.

Everything I've ever loved reminds me of who I once was or who I am. I love them because they feel like home. Like they are made of the same things that I was made from.

I love them simply because they make me, me.

Why do you love what you love?

Reblog if your page is a safe space for anyone of any nationality and ethnicity.

Reblog if your page is a safe space for anyone in the LGBTQ+ community.

Reblog if your page is a safe space for anyone with a disability or disorder.

Reblog if your page is a safe space for anyone who has experienced or is experiencing trauma.

Reblog if your page is a safe space.

Hold me close and sing softly about starry nights and fairy lights.

I feel really ill and all I want to do is fall asleep in your arms

Please let him go.

You were not meant to be this way.

You should be glowing, flowing through stars and space.

Not sitting tired in a corner, away from everything.

Away from life.

You have years ahead .

Millennias to conquer.

He is but a fleeting dream.

A flash in the evening sky.

Gone as fast as he came,

Never too close to feel the warmth.

So please let him go.

There's no way he'll come back.

Or think of you.

Or wish you'd wait.

He's gone on.

And now you should do the same.

Let him go.

For far more adventures await you.

And I promise your broken heart will feel less broken,

day by day.

Let him go.

Let him go.

Just let go.

❤️

CARRY IT WITH YOU (k.p.k)

All I ever did was either chase someone or run away from another, when the only thing I really wanted was to stay somewhere, to let my roots grow in someone's heart and be their anchor in return.

—Lilllium, from In Place Of The Mirror is a Portrait of You