Kinda like that

 Whenever I had a chance for a night like this. I dare to say I longed for it for so long. To fall asleep gazing into her wonderful eyes, experiencing her melancholy that she caries within, but never gives in. 

With my hands on her naked skin. Traveling along the highs and lows. Exploring the curves she has acquired, feeling the scars that she has gained. All that life has given her, but she never gives in. 

Softly, warmly trace my fingers up her spine until I reach her soft hair, brush my fingers through it over and over again, but even if she trembles from my touch, she never gives in. 

I might lose my sleep this night, there is no regret in this. I would be ready to lose myself in her everynight, she is a painting and I want to count every brushstroke on her. Savour the simple take of this moment, she is my muse, but she never gives in.

 

Timeless

Sometimes I do not have enough words to fill the silence around me.

My thoughts run empty since they do not even know anymore where to go.

All, but feel so stuck when the time is moving on. 

It stops for noone. 

Not even us. 

Sometimes waiting seems useless. Moving on seems pointless. Just need a moment, when we are given none. 

What we need the most from people we care about, we are given none. Touchless silence, thousand ways to find avoidance in us. Asking is running away. Giving is the same as taking. 

All of this is just a mess. Just loud words to fill the void of freedom. Where you even listening when it mattered? 

Choices that none could make, for the all the reasons unknown. Questionable on both parts, for sure.

Maybe someday I will wake up lighter, until then I carry the dreams heavily. Chaoticaly.

Music I am

 

Spaces

We left spaces for almost everything

Except for us

We were too strong to admit

We were the ones to put crying demons to sleep

For sure they would not believe us

I know

They just wanted to deceive us 

I can hope

One day we will fill these spaces

With each other

We are

 They only ever made art about the beautiful roses. Never about dandelions. So they became the artwork on their own. 

Raw and honest, and barely visible. Perfect if only you look within. They became the sun, the moon and the stars. Undestroyable, always blooming. Dancing in the winds wild, twirling around, enjoyable sight to behold. 

They became a silent wish. Spiteful to those who wished them to be destroyed, not as weak as anyone expected them to be. Tough little fuckers indeed.

Let them make art about beautiful roses, we will become the art itself. We are the dandelions. Spiteful. Undestroyable.

 Invisible to those who do not wish to see honesty. We have our ways to survive wherever. We are rough, tough little fuckers indeed.

 I HOPE I AM YOUR COFFEE

One saturday

You are always on my mind. 

I can feel your hair on my fingertips. Your skin pressing against my skin. Your lips feeling on my lips. 

You are always on my mind. 

About all this time ahead of us, where I want you more than just a temporary stop. I want you as lasting trip that I could enjoy every day, without final stop. To be your adventure you could tell me about, and you could be mine never ending story.

You are always on my mind.

I want you as a book I have read a thousand times, to be kept next to me, so I could read you again one more time or so I would say. Still finding something new everytime in it, maybe a small detail I missed last time. From cover to cover, with my fingers gently going over it.

You are always on my mind.

I want to know you. Be with you. Feel you. I want you more than just on my mind. I want you to be you. I want you to be real. I want to be next to you.

Who is on your mind?

 

Better for next time