Hey you, you have the most beautiful eyes. I’m pretty sure I could get lost in them if you gave me the chance.
I want the cold. I want the fall feeling. I am sitting by my window, damn near shivering. I want to feel the cold on my skin. It reminds me I’m alive. The cold air.
When you can close your eyes and feel a song through your whole body you know it’s for you. It’s as if the song was written and composed just for you. The beats were meant for no one else’s body but your own, each note, yours.
I just looked in the mirror. I don’t recognize myself anymore. I mean, I see myself, but it’s not me. I don’t look drastically different, I just don’t recognize myself. Does that make sense?
There is something about the taste of good coffee. I think I drink too much of it, but I’m pretty sure it’s a key point to my sanity not to mention my happiness.
Where are you?
Dance. There is something about it. Even though I can’t move fast today, just feeling my muscles move relieves stress. I’m not up to par as of late, but as long as I can still move, even if it’s just for stretching purposes in my own kitchen I’m happy.
Maybe I’m overbearing. Maybe it will scare you, maybe it won’t. Either way I want you in my arms. Simple no?
Have you ever looked at your hands? I mean really looked at them? Think back through your life, what have your hands accomplished? Where did your scars come from? Who did they soothe? Did you hold a small child? Build a house? Run your fingers through summer grass? What have your hands done?