We stood on a balcony peering over the heads of people in too much of a hurry to see us. However, we were both stuck in time, mesmerized. The setting sun behind you didn't amaze me nearly as much as the look in your eyes.
You were analyzing me, trying to flip through the pages of the book that is me. I think you were trying to find out how it all ends.
In your eyes I saw hope. Not the type of hope they write on door mats and sell for $10. Nor the hope they throw around in religious conversation. I saw hope in its purest, most delicate form. It was so brand new to you that you didn't even know what you were feeling. Yet it was glazed over your eyes so densely that it may as well have dripped onto your cheeks.
We stood on that balcony, so clueless of the future. You held me tightly, arms around my waist. You didn't let go for a year.
You took my fifteen - correction - I gladly handed you my fifteen and I would just as eagerly have given you my sixteen, seventeen, and twenties.
If only we had known then what we know today. Would we still have stood on that balcony for hours upon hours, staring into each other's eyes?
Our conversation was so thickly enriched by our passion. Had the wind carried away our words and blew them onto an author's blank page it would be a best seller.
Even as I simply laid my head on your chest in silence, the words spoken were so powerful.
We were so young on that balcony. What I would do to be so innocent yet again is immeasurable.
Now, I lay alone inside, a veteran. Having survived your love was my greatest feat.
YOU ARE READING
Numbing Waves
PoesíaA compilation of short stories and poems about mental disorders, love, sexuality, and whatever my happens in my life worth writing about. These are the deepest regions of my conscious written down.
