Your lost | 18+

01

Love is not all that we need
Love is not all that we care for
Love is not all that we live for

But love can also be uncontrollable. One second there no where, next second there everywhere from your skin to your blood to your finger tips and in your heart. Once there, there is no forgetting, or redoing  or even starting over because love can be lunatic. It is not always up to us, it's up to what or who creates how our souls collide into one.

Before we meet we hear those corrupted voices that linger in the pits of our eardrums;

"Is it better to speak, or to die without someone by my side?"

The torment we put our self's through about if we are alone, apart from everyone... forever.

Those words are yet so pitiful but yet so thought through. But love is passion, obsession...someone you can't bare to live without.

They will always ask when will you stop loving her and the real answer is... never she is my passion, my obsession, and that what love is all about. How she is so different from everyone else that I have set my eyes on in my 19 years of living and survival in this formalised small town of Michigan.

As the sunlit waves, as white lace upon the sea, her blonde were the perfect kind of wild. If you have ever witnessed a blush of white in graphite cloud, if you've ever seen whitest cream in a coffee cup, then you can imagine how that splash of blonde hair lit up every scene that was lucky enough to have her in it. She is perfect. Well for what i remember for what was perfect.

In those earthy hues was her soul, not in they way of those cheesy romance novels, so obsessed with lust, but with the kind of beauty that expands a moment into a personal eternity, a heaven you wish to be a part of.

The last thing I seem to remember of her was, the way her hair tousled by the wind as the four police officers stood ether side of her whist gripping onto her arms that had bruises lined up and down in the most angelic way a bruise can look, and the others standing behind her and in front of her to try provoke her from running out of the men's hold.

Her eyes being full up to the brim with the tears that had produced from the pain that builds up inside her. Her buttoned nose that sits there making her face even more beautiful, with the faded freckles that have faded off since she was eight years old.

White plain tank top that sat right under her breasts with three buttons but yet one only being undone, making the shadow of her boobs peeping through. Dark blue denim mini skirt that was low rising that sats from her thigh, that makes the rest of her leg still visible. Her tanned skin, that story of summertime told in heavens browns, elevates the loving gaze. Her white Nike airforces with what seemed to have no socks on but judging how perfect she is, she probably have ballet socks on.

Her silver mayfair bas relief pendant necklace that she aways wore, almost everyday. Plain silver hooped earrings that were not to big but yet not to small just enough to acknowledge she had them on. On her right wrist she had her hearts of love bracelet stack that was in silver and on her right wrist she had her silver Michael Kors watch.

Her hair cut into layers that was always pushed behind her back. that was cut up to her mid back.

You can probably tell she came to school looking like she walked straight out of a vogue photoshoot.

Perfect

There are some names that suggest the person may go on to greatness, others that do the opposite via their secondary connections or definitions. That is why your parents call you by the greatest of names, so that you could see at an early age that you were destined to become a great one.

But the way that Dylan felt on my tongue as I spoke left it so smoothing and calming.

'born from the ocean'

Beautiful. How beautiful?