I was your Home.

You made your home inside of me. You started slowly, placing brick by brick and fixing those bricks with cement and water. You came close, sometimes too close and sometimes; not close enough. You were there, enchanting and then you were gone. Your eyes would meet mine and for the rest of the night, I would search for my favourite pair. Then there were doors. There were tiny creaking doors and large doors with no handles and no locks. And suddenly you were everywhere. Your eyes were the only pair and your shoulder was the only one I wanted rubbing against mine. Your breath was synced with mine and your days were now ours. Your home had windows, windows that would open with no locks and windows that would stay open through the night. You’d walk in and grab by the hand and take me out for hours. We’d be by the sea one second and staring at the stars next. There was no limit to and there were no questions asked. Your home was chaotic and calm with a hint of lavender perfume in the air and a voice in my ears which always made my skin crawl and the hair on the back of my neck rise and that’s when I Knew that you should never build Homes in people because when you start slamming doors and shattering windows and painting the walls from red to blue and from blue to a pale grey, it Crumbles.

It crumbles beneath the sheer pain of abandonment and loss. It stands there on its bricks and mud trying to hold the life it contained within it, only to find that you can build Houses but sustain them with Life and only then can they become Homes.

I was Home and when you left, the doors broke off of their hinges and the ceiling crashed against the wall. There were shards of glasses everywhere. There were mirrors and frames and photographs and records and posters of your favourite 70’s rock band and that the last remnant of your most worn hoodie and your mother’s jewellery box which always had my ring. They were there but not anymore. They shattered under the agony of hearts falling apart and fates falling together and only then did I chant, “Never build homes in people, because they will burn and break and you will leave the four walls barely standing”.

You left a flight at risk without a fear of falling.

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Will I see you there?

I’ll see you at the beginning;

In between stolen glances and words which were mine even before you uttered them. Where your gorgeous eyes were only looking for mine. Somewhere in  between the slight brushing of the hands and the times where I would go back home and hold my hand against my heart and hear the loudest beats. Somewhere in between the words unsaid and the smiles that were intended for me and me only.

I’ll see you somewhere in my dreams where you would lay next to me and hold my hand and make me feel like all the stars in the sky were ours and the light from them was enough to keep us alive. And in that moment we felt like conquerers, where all of the world was ours and we were enough for all of its might. In that moment, your hand was all the power I needed to feel like that no unknown was scarier to break us down.

I will see you somewhere, where  all the songs were about you and all the words reminded me of you and your gorgeous hair and the feeling where my heart actually felt like it had left my body and was floating above in the sky and had left me down here to deal with the chaotic mess that I so often was around you.  I’ll see you somewhere, some where distant, somewhere far away from here, somewhere where we know no one and no one knows us. Of the past that we had or the life that we want to have. Somewhere where I sing in the morning and you hold my hand and dance with me. Somewhere, where our eyes meet and we instantly smile because this is it and somehow even though it shouldn’t be, you were my first and you were enough and I was enough for you.

 

But right now, you are yours and I am mine and we aren’t enough anymore.. We will take a while to get there, to be there, to find or way into the walls of the house that we may someday have, Into the wooden floors and the glass windows… We’ll get there soon. Just not now.

[NOT] A Morning Person. 

I woke up this morning to a new me, one that was woken up by your snores. New me isnt annoyed, she’s pleased. She’s laughing to herself as she slowly runs her fingers over your lips while you look like you’re on a cloud (well, except for that snoring). New me doesnt drag her feet on the ground to get to the espresso machine; to actually wake up to this messy world. New me actually loves stretching on the bed while I sing the most annoying song, in full volume to wake you up. You wake up with that nasty grin on your face; one that reads that you’re going to get me back for this. You tickle me and tackle me until I stop and I tackle back; with heavy laughter, that comes from far deeper than the lungs. My heart is fluttering (which biologically isnt possible, but poetically; makes all the sense in the world) and my body feels so much more awake than those coffee grains have ever made me feel. 

 New me loves Mornings. 
-Footnote:

{This may not seem alot, But Better Mornings make for better Days.💖}

Snippets (1)

If you ask me to, I’d say yes to anything Love. I’ll cross oceans and travel a thousand miles to be with you. If you ask me, I’ll move mountains and tress. I’ll cross bridges and burn walls to be near you. Why don’t you see that as I stand before you; holding my heart in my palm, offering it to you with every ounce of being that I have. Can you not see this?