loving you is like building my future dream house:
it starts with a scratch, an abstract visual of colors and lines and dimensions i am not sure what to make of. it continues with collecting courage that takes more than just a heart to make it seems even near possible. add a few papers and pencils and charcoals to pour what once was a mere shadow.
then we will go to when i have a fondation. something to hold on to. a reason to continue; that i have started.
but dream house takes time. in between the spins of the world, i will have to stop for a moment, moments, calculating chances. maybe i will take off my hand of the handle. of the unfinished windows. of the half-colored walls. stones and cement and paints and woods i left untouched.
doesn't mean i let it go. doesn't mean i let you go.
these spins are not forever. even storms have to take a breath. this, this is when i come back. with open arms and wide-scarred grin; throwing myself to you even when we both know you are incomplete--but sweet Lord, i am of broken hopes with blurry ends;
and you are the only dream i have left.
- to, red hair that catches crowds, long neck looks out for everyone,
and eyes that glints:
i will see you again.
