Hidden Secrets

My Muse

I am man with no meaning to her. Merely a shadow against the wall, casting myself upon her, making our shadows merge eachother to one being. A being that lives in the darkest corner of my mind.

I do not even believe that she knows that I exist.

Her long red hair stands out in any crowd.
I always see her. My muse.

Her freckles are like stars shining brightly in the night, but just on her soft, milky-white skin. They are scattered all around her, as if snowflakes kissed and graced her with everlasting beauty that lasts not only in winter.

Her eyes, greener than a moss-covered forest-floor, sparkles like emeralds touched gently by the sun.
They seem almost childisly innocent, filled with curiosity.

Her lips seems as soft as rose petals. I crave a taste of her. It is almost a need everytime I see her. Her full, soft lips.

I always keep myself together, as it wont be right or a gentlemans way to kiss a girl on the lips, without her consent. So, I wait.

I will wait an eternity for her if I have to, but in the meantime, I am watching her from the shadows, letting our shadows dance together as I cast myself upon her, so it almost seems like we are one.

My muse and I.

Her blood is more red than redwine or a red gardenrose by the way.
I noticed it as her throat was cut open. I had to see if the insides matched the outside, I had to see everything of her. My beautiful muse.

Even in fear she was perfect. Her tears were perfect accessories for her skin. Her eyes seemed greener and clearer, as she revealed herself in fear to me.
As the blood filled my hands, I took the liberty of a taste. Sweet..

I can't take that liberty again, so now I wait. I wait for her to answer me, while I watch her from the shadows.