Thoughts of you. The way I must smile when I think of you must be the most genuine thing seen from another’s point of view. Thoughts of you. That laugh when you’re smiling and laughing at the same time. That’s me when I think of you saying one of your many lines. We’ll see has to be one of my favorites that I despise. If I said I wasn’t smiling right now thinking about it, it’d be a lie. Thoughts of you. It comforts me like if you’re physically here. That feeling of having you near. Perfect. Thoughts of you. I could recreate so many times we’ve spent together. I think about them at times like this and they truly make me feel better. Thoughts of you. Without them I would be just fine. But what’s better than fine? There’s a thin line between fine and not good so maybe these thoughts serve a purpose as they should. They make me feel good. They make me happy…naturally. Thoughts of you. The ones that make me miss your pretty little smile and the sound of your voice. I refrain from asking to see you, which is always a horrible choice. I miss you, don’t I? Why would I pass up on a chance to be face to face, seeing eye to eye? Thoughts of you. So often, so many. I love them, there’s plenty. Thoughts of you. When will I see you again? It’s always an event to me when I do. It isn’t something brand new, but come on now….it’s you. Thoughts of you. What are you doing, what are you thinking? Are you in a pool of thoughts, like are you deep in? Are any of them of me? Have I been on your mind lately? Thoughts of you. The girl with the curly hair that looks as beautiful when it’s straight. The girl I continue to learn about to this day. I wanna learn all her ways. I wanna know her better than most in every way. Thoughts of you. Precious you. Without them, what would I do? I’ll live in a world without the girl who believes in me and I believe in she. That she is a princess to her parents and a queen to me. Thoughts of you. Whether it makes me happy, miss you, or stirs up jealousy…they’re there. Thoughts of you. None on paper, all on here. Most from a distance, almost never when you’re near. Let’s give it up to you. Why? For being you. Priceless. Even with your flaws, you’re somehow flawless. You’re my favorite subject. You’re always my favorite topic. Thoughts of you.
It all starts with a form of hello. In my case, there’s an excitement that is felt through my heart dropping to my stomach and my legs feeling like jello. I’m kidding, that’s a bit extreme. But you can tell by the bright smile on my face, watch as my smile gleams. All it is really is the start of a simple conversation initiated by an individual. They may just need to talk for a little. But again, in my case, it’s something more than that. I take that back. It’s simply conversation.
Don’t you love when a conversation is easily kept going? You two always know what to say to keep it all flowing. You two can talk for hours at a time without even knowing. For all you know is that there’s a brightness in two separate rooms, yes their smiles are showing. The conversation consists of smiles and laughs, talking bout this and that, straight faces and eye rolls, curiousity of what conversation is next to unfold. Oh did I tell you that you’re all that I wanna hold? Sorry, a little off topic, but I bet you’re not telling me to stop it. Being too persistent, yeah I got it. If I paid a dollar for everytime I thought of that, i’d have no money in my wallet. But really though, I apologize. Conversation through communication, whether verbal or not. Face to face, eye to eye, oops I forgot that after a second the eye contact will stop. Conversation that can last for hours. One that you never want to end so you bring your phone with you into the shower. One that makes you never want to leave her side. One that makes you want to pick her up and go for a long ride. Conversation, communication, being on the same page, relating, we lack none of it. Talking for hours at a time should become our daily habit. Or I could give you time to miss me. Cause the next time our eyes meet, conversation will spark quickly.
I don’t mean to come on too strong, but let’s talk. Matter of fact, let’s get some air too, let’s take a walk. I have a spot where we can lay and stare at the stars. Or we could take a rocketship to my favorite planet…Mars. We can put our records on at a low volume and not say any words as our bodies meet. All we’ll listen to is the sounds of each other’s breathing and heartbeat. Your heartbeat, my heartbeat…repeat. Then conversation will begin. I stare at you while I listen to the words you sing. I move your hair to the side cause your eyes it should not hide. We’re inhaling this feel good mood and letting the negativity out with our sighs.
Next time I see you, I mean when we sit down and talk, I’ll tell you something that’s been long overdue. You’re probably curious as to what it is, knowing you. But no need to worry, it’s actually something really extraordinary, something we’ve never witnessed. Things have changed in the past few months, my world has shifted. Let’s pick a day to witness this “new” form of communication. You and I, engaged in simple conversation.
Let’s define what being selfish means. Is it doing everything you can for your own personal happiness by any means? I’ve come to realize that being selfish is unavoidable. Correct me if I’m wrong, because it is in fact debatable. But let’s discuss the topic of you…oops I mean her. I want her. Do I need her? Not necessarily. But rarely do I adore someone this much, it’s kinda scary. But like I said I want her, and I’ll do so much to make her smile. It’s for my personal satisfaction, it does drive me wild. But while I write, crack jokes, think of ideas to make her feel perfect inside, I’m being selfish. I think about how her reactions will create for me such satisfaction…do you get it? I’m so damn selfish cause her smile brightens my day. I’m so damn selfish cause her embrace makes me feel a certain way. I’m looking for a positive reaction from her eyes or those words that slip through her lips. Perfectly said, crisp, goddamn I live for this! I get such a high from her laugh. Am I still being selfish you ask? Well damn, I think so. Her lit up eyes, legitimate smile and heaven sent hug are my drugs, fuck weed and coke. I’m selfish and I’ve been all along. Just understand that if you had a party next door, i’d be “selfish” enough to put your records on 😉
Ha, goddamn, goddamn, goddamn! Yes she’s flawless. Oh wait she has flaws? Yeah I could care less. Oh no, let me rephrase that. I take that all back. Her flaws are hidden gems that are soon to be adored. Black and white traits, put them together and you’ve played the perfect chord. I’m into her and all the different ways she makes me feel. For the past month or two, I’ve written my feelings in a love letter that has yet to be sealed. The gist of it all is that I’m selfish. I want her all to myself. Please back the hell up, you can’t have her heart. My uncondtional adoration of her is what sets you and I apart. Go mess with another girl’s feelings. Hers are extra special, they have an ideal meaning. I’ve been approached with complicated, blindsided by crazy, cursed by confusion. But things have changed since this new thing I’ve been using. My positivity is so huge, negativity now so little. I’ve strayed away from the complicated bitch, the crazy hoe, and the totally confused, onto something…simple. And yes I want it all to myself. You all in my arms, saying I love how this feels and never saying I love how it felt. Greedy, selfish, can I tell you again that I never wanna let go? Forget the others, they’re a waste of time, I’m all yours you know. Well not really cause ALL of this has be earned. Lmao, it all takes time is what I’ve learned.
Your friends can have you, your family forever does. But I’m tryna go back to how it once was. It was once that I believed that you were already mine. And that you were always on my mind and if there was a hill I had to climb to sneak up from behind and cover your eyes making you temporarily blind making you guess who it is, which you will easily with my luck, so I might as well just sneak up from behind and give you a hug, hands around your stomach, this warmness to your body is what I bring as I gently feel across your stomach, stopping at your belly ring. All there is are smiles as I tell you how good you smell, kissing you softly on the cheek saying I think I want you all to myself. Selfish. I can’t help it. I think you’re the only one that can help with me wanting you all to myself.
They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. I believe the heart starts to grow weary if the distance becomes any longer. All I can do now is stare from a distance. My fear of getting caught looking gets to me, but there’s still not enough resistance. Those features I adore are far away from me. And I’ve been desperately wanting to stare at them lately. Man maybe, ahhh I don’t know if I should do so. I need to let my fingers slip, I need to let go. But why let go of something that feels so good to hold on to? The feeling that comes along with it is never similar…it always feels like it’s brand new. Ha man, if she only knew what I knew. I know the truth and the truth is that SHE is the truth…haha, yes you. But all I can do is feel the presence of the truth from afar. The distance feels so far that, for all I know, she could be shining amongst the stars. My new found addiction, my inspiration. Same last name, but we are of no relation. Why do you stand over there? Why do I walk away from you as if I don’t care? Why do I treat you as if you’re a different person? I blame it on the controlling of the feelings that I’m learning. My heart sinks to my stomach when I hear your name. Hearing your voice, seeing you walk by, it all does the same. So why am I adoring you from a distance? Maybe you’re still speaking and all I’m doing is listening. Your scalp I want to massage with the feeling of your curls all over my hand. But your wish is my command. Talk…I’ll continue to listen. I’ll adore…simply from a distance.
The daily urges to have you in my presence. Valentines Day is approaching and that would be the perfect present. And it doesn’t have to do anything with the holiday. You in my presence will simply make my day. Room filled with conversation. The occasional laughter, smiles, healthy debating. Talk about my poetry. Tell me how much you like it cause you know how much it means to me. Talk about traveling the world. Did you know that I hope to do so with my special girl? How’s your father, how’s your mother? You show me messages from her saying she loves you and you responding back saying you love her. Hmmm, I missed hearing about all that’s going on in your life and every day asking about your day. Seeing or speaking to you regularly lately is unheard of, and it shouldn’t be that way. Goodnights every night, sweet dreams to whomever says it first. You say goodnight, I say sweet dreams, or it could be reversed. No longer at a distance, close like we should be. Everything that I love about you are things that should be close to me so I’m able to see. My vision isn’t the best, but you make me see clearly. Know that I’ll never kick you out or push you away even though I look forward to that final embrace. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, but my heart is happiest when we’re face to face.
Four months. A day. A few hours. The love story began. Her name…simple. His name…simple. What began was something most no longer see. Unless of course its on TV or happens in a movie. But this here, man this was one for the books. A fairytale beginning…who has heard of such a thing. No this wasn’t that. It was…simple. Four months. A day. A few hours. What this is meant to explain is that not all “fairytale” beginnings have an end. Well they do, we just don’t find out how. See for this story, I have a pen. This pen is a mixture of the colors green, and yes, purple. The pen is the heart of this story. Without it, it could not be written. Remember that.
We say that history repeats itself. This is not possible, of course, without a little help. Now with that being said, understand that this IS history, but of HIS story. His story begins with a young boy who did not understand love, but knew that it was a good feeling. Emotions were revealed and, lips were never concealed and, a commandment was being broken by she, I mean I caught her stealing. Ask before you take, earn it if need be. Give your heart to someone who will make it happy. When your heart is happy, you are happy, and I mean slap me if I’m wrong, but the good ones go if you wait too long, I mean that’s me…remember…I wrote a song. I’m still writing it, but I’m taking a break. If you’re exploring the depths of feeling and emotion…I hope you don’t come across heartbreak. I mean, I don’t know if you have regrets or feel like you’ve made mistakes, but your heart I’ll take so that if you do get hurt out there…it’ll still be okay. Is that okay? Persistence. What’s the point of its existence? To get what you want even if it doesn’t want you? Nah, it’s trying to build something that is genuine, pure…that is true.
Love stories. There’s many to compare and contrast. Some go on forever…some do not last. But this love story…if you can even call it that…this love story is floating on a cloud of forced smiles and cold hugs and fake emotions and lying ass words. A trial now expired, kicked to the curb. An essence from being high off life, now relies on the herb. I found a message at the bottom of the bottle. It said walk away idiot, and see if misery follows. Leave behind the paper and the pen. If you don’t stop treating this like a game, you’ll never win. A love story…written with the intent of having an imperfect ending. Instead of an ending, were pretending that there’s no story at all. I’ve doodled on the side of the paper, continuing to stall. I’ve written side notes and distracted myself with other things I wrote. I’m not waiting, I’m just debating if I should continue. Do I have it in me, do I still see it in you? A love story… Left for dead with a happy beginning and future suspense. Shall I continue writing… or have I run out of ink in the pen?
Two talents, one piece of art. The things that brought us together are what we believed set us apart. We came together to take the world by storm. It was something out of the ordinary, it was far from the norm. I remember the first time I heard you. I was there to be back up for you. The keys being pressed against, the sound going through my ears straight to my heart over and over again. Feeding off the passion of the melody. I wasn’t allowed to look at you and you would not look at me. The melody done so softly. The roles have reversed coincidentally. Now I stand here looking at myself in the mirror, wishing I could hear her. Our song, the one being written from the beginning. It’s one I’ve been trying to share with you since the first time I heard you singing. Day by day I’ve written line by line. This may be the longest song ever written, but it’s fine. As long as you enjoy every bit of it. As long as you listen to it over and over again and never get sick of it. Through memories created by times shared, whether you were here or there, whether I could glance or stare. Will the song ever end? Not as long as I keep writing and pressing send. But what I wonder is when it does end, what will be the final thought on my mind? Will it be something silly, will it be something kind? See I sit here, lay here, walk around at times. I write down everything about you that comes to mind. I imagine your lips moving, pronouncing ever word I write. I imagine your eyes lighting up and your occasional smile, man what a sight! I write for me, hold back all insecurities and completely describe what you mean to me. I talk about how it might be early, but with time we’ll see. I might not understand all your ways. I might not even run through your mind most days. But what I do know is if I write, you read, you analyze. My words never go unseen, they’ll always be a reflection in your eyes. That’s why I write for me, cause I’m selfish and want to be happy. Selfish for being happy? Nonsense if you ask me. What can make me happy and exactly why I write. For my happiness, I write for me….and you, right? There’s no doubt there whatsoever. I try my best to be clever, have the way I describe it all make you shiver just so I can run over to you and warm you with my embrace, hoping you’ll want me to stay. I’m a tricky tricky man, but it’s what keeps it all interesting. How I feel, in our song there’s no second guessing. I’ll have you hold a beautiful note as we sing to the words I wrote, dancing to the rhythm of Murder She Wrote. But what I wonder on a daily basis is if this song will make it. Could it be stripped down naked and be replaced with brand new words we both came up with? “We’ll see” … one day, maybe. I’ll keep thinking about you to see what other words I can find. In the end, I’ll leave you in charge of the last line.
We seem to live in a world where everyone is always in our space. Whether they get in our way or they stare at our face, it happens everywhere, no matter the place. What we have done is create our own. It’s known that you can attract the unknown. Two spaces brought together into one zone. We’re no longer alone. See, I like you, with feelings and everything. You’re allowed in my space, and your love you can bring. A created space through conversations unintentionally stating, I love you. No, no, never mind those words that were never spoken. It takes a lot more than words to understand why this space between you and I was chosen. A space created face to face, through smiles and a warm embrace. It’s noodles in a bottle, and hawaiian punch. It’s fruit bars, it’s a Christmas lunch. It’s a birthday card, a box of crayons. It’s capturing your reaction when you saw that single rose in my hand. Created space, one no one can ever enter nor ruin. It’s there everytime we meet again, a heart to heart reunion.
Spaces torn apart with empty space in between the two. The only ones that could ruin it…me and you. The distance confuses those on the outside looking in. What happened to that space, what have we missed, where have we been? The fake despise, lack of contact between the eyes, yet the warmness of the embrace is still alive. Why? When a space is created, it creates a pocket in your heart where you store the memory of eyes, smiles, hair styles, fragrances. That’s where the loving all is. There may have not been anything there in that space, but the truth will always remain. Things change, but that special space feeling stays the same. Do you recall smiling at the thought of being adored to the max? Or did you roll your eyes and say you’re good with all that? The reason I ask is simply out of curiousity. Or maybe I just wanted to make you smile, haha, you know me! Man, I wonder how Elty and Vivy are. Last time I checked they were on an adventure of some sort and they’ve made it pretty far. Sorry, I just got a little sidetracked. Created spaces? Oh yup, let’s get back to that.
Now I’m aware that in your eyes I can’t stare, but it’s more about the thought of being there, sitting in a chair, by your side playing with your hair. Created space. I’ve run after you before and you’re worth the chase. By worth the chase, I mean I’ll do anything for us to be face to face. In your arms has become my favorite place. That’s our created space.