My Light, My Love.

March 7, 2009
By Taylor Brennan BRONZE, Randolph, Massachusetts
Taylor Brennan BRONZE, Randolph, Massachusetts
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The heart wants what the heart wants. And right now, my heart wants you. The way you make me feel is unbelievable, indescribable. My heart flutters like a hummingbird threatening to break free. My stomach twists as butterflies flap their love-struck wings. My head drifts to warm thoughts of your smile, your eyes, your lips. All my insecurities, my flaws, my fears disappear when I see your face; your stunning face whose beauty overwhelms me, engulfing my veins with hot, pulsing blood that only flows for you, that travels to a heart that only beats for you. Those eyes, so mysterious, so open, telling everything, yet hiding too much. Breathtaking pools of shimmering Caribbean waters, blanketed in a layer of gleaming crystal lure me in, sinking their hooks deeper, leaving me helpless to struggle against their prowess; two stars that blend beautifully with that pale complexion, sheeting your body in a sunless splendor. Your silken Chestnut hair flows freely, making my fingers twitch. How they yearn to reach out and tangle in those smooth, soft locks, combing through until my hand rests comfortably upon your cheek; a cheek stained crimson with a blush. My breathing hitches, stuck in my throat like an idle train jammed on broken tracks as you smile, parting those delicate pink lips. They call my name, droning out all other sounds. Yes, you possess outer beauty, but this is not why my heart aches for you, for your touch, your voice, your very essence. You're beautiful on the inside, too, where it really counts. You live, and love, and laugh, picking me up when I'm down, making me smile when I frown. You're my light, my love. When you laugh, the sound drifts through my ears like a wonderful melody, ruined by a sad undertone that lingers in the notes. Sad because I know that we could never be, that we will never be. I'd wait an eternity for you, drowning in a forever filled with nothing but false hope. But still, I'd trudge on, clinging with all ten fingers to the maybe that keeps me up at night. For it is you, my love, whom I dream in my restless slumber. It is you whom my mind drifts to during conversation. It is you whom my heart constricts painfully over. It is you. My light. My love.

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