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| <<<>>> |
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a bird in love with its cage |
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| Created by Decius at
| [+ favourites]
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She is perfect in every possible way of perfection.
I do not look up to her as someone superior to me.
But she is perfect to me, and I am flawed.
Logic has no place when every time I think of her I am numbed.
It is as if an aura of warmth that only I can feel
Eminates from her body, only for me.
When I am with her I can not feel my weight,
Because I never touch the ground.
Contact with her makes my soul shiver with feeling,
Be it a smile, a hug, or her tender soft voice.
Time is slowed when I am with her, in the warmth.
And life is dead, meaningless, timeless without her.
I have no recollections of the time I spend without her.
And I have no desire to remember those moments.
I did not exist, I did not live. I did not breathe.
The moment I see her, I breathe again, suffocated without her.
But I can not touch her.
I can not tell her she lets me live.
All I can do is sit in the piercing glow.
And fear leaving my friend's side. |
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| Created by Decius at
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