The cold dampness of today felt okay with you. Puddles filled with water, and simultaneously, I filled with joy. I never thought it was possible to feel so happy on such a dreary day - this has never happened before.
I find myself wishing that I could capture certain moments in time and relive them forever. I know that's particularly foolish of me, but I can't help myself when I get that high kind of happy. It makes me wish for things I know I'll never hold in my hands, or see with my own eyes. I had many of those moments today with you.
Deep red rose petals accompanied laughter, and I found something I previously looked too hard for. You were never hidden in plain sight; I caught you right on that first day. I know that I always make myself out to be unloving, but if you must know, I'm capable of loving you. And I know that I would never allow myself that luxury, yet I think about it all the time.
Loving you would take too much from me, I'm afraid. All romantics aside, I can love you right now. Love is dynamic like that - there is no uniform way to love or be loved. So maybe I could after all, even if it would wear me out. I think I want to wear myself out, I think I want to put you on a pedestal like I have with others before.
Tonight, you walk the halls of my mind. You're playing back the moments in which you were ever so close to me, over and over until they are all I dream about. You're making me bloom this spring, my petals unfolding and beginning to soak up the morning sun. Isn't life delightful when you have a reason to rise?
You're not my only reason to rise, but you certainly do cross my mind when I wake. If I can't love you like a lover, I will love you another way. I'll make my own kind of love, if that's what you want. I'll guide you along, helping you ride this out.
Reach out, touch my arm again. Let me know that the rainy day in which we spent with the roses meant something to you. I truly hope you are happy, because I care so much for you that I couldn't stand to see you unhappy.
Let's laugh in the rain.
YOU ARE READING
Self Deception
PoetryPoetry 2017 And if I burn out in a fit of psychosis, remember me as a young god, with that smile made of daggers, even if I was the most dangerous thing you could've touched. Perhaps all that danger comes from the multiple personalities, but all I...
