TW: Mentions of death
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I'm tired all of the time.
I would lay on the hard wooden floor, my half-open eyes staring at the blank ceiling as I could only feel and think nothing.
But you... you're the medicine to the disease of my life. You're the moon of the dark, the sun of the rain; the one single diamond on a land of rubble and stone.
Your smile only brings me joy, your laughter like a melody. And your eyes-- the color of the sky and sea-- they are the key to my aching heart.
The thought of holding you as you give me your warmth seems to be the only thing keeping me going, and the thought of having you close keeps me happy.
I want to protect you from this cruel world as you protect me from my cruel heart. I want to lighten up your life as you lighten up my mind.
Lastly, I want to hold your hand when I let out my dying breath, whisper to you my last words of love before I slip away with the warmth of your crimson palm; your tears of acceptance dripping onto my cold arm while I hear your last sob, "I love you."
203 words
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Again, I am hung up on her. She just makes me feel some type of way every time I lay my eyes on her. The heart flutter, the butterflies-- all of it.
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories :P
RandomBehind these books and words stand a lonely writer with an explosion of thoughts and feelings she is never able to show. Read this book to get an insight on small snippets of my life. ~Editing/checking finished~
