I thought I saw you in the sunset today. That is something I believe is new. I understand why it would remind me of someone, but never have I truly seen someone inside the beauty of it all. Inside the blue and orange fading behind the trees. I'm crashing into you and I am almost sure you can feel it. I'm crashing harder than I even thought possible and there are moments when I feel nervous that in the end, you won't be there to catch me. A piece of me wonders if that is because I can hardly believe that this possibility could ever come into existence in the first place. You are incredible beyond words and only your beautiful soul could leave this kind of impact in me so quickly, yet so precise. Precise in a way that could gently show me the impact in ways like that sunset showed me today. You are gentle with me in ways that I have not been shown before. This effects me greatly, in ways that you do not know. You have treated me in a way that I have not experienced before and it feels like it is healing some kind of wound that I didn't even realize was there (I think that I got so used to the feeling). You have come to me in a time where I am finally in a such a good place in my life, and now you have enhanced that even more. I have wrote about you already, but I haven't shown you. That is something that is new as well. I am usually apt to show people my writing about them, but with you I am nervous. I am not convinced that my words will do justice, nor am I convinced that this piece of writing is going to do justice. I wish that I could rip my chest open and show you what I am trying to tell you. A little bit of me wishes I would've taken a picture of that sunset, but I'm not sure that it would be the same through a screen. I am hoping that this will preserve it in a way. This may not do it justice but I am hoping that if you see this, it will give you a bit of insight on the things I am attempting to tell you. On the things I hope you will possibly understand.
Crashing Into You // Vance Joy
YOU ARE READING
Spilled Tea
PoetryOne mind, a few ghosts, and one hundred thoughts spilled on paper.