"And my god, the way he held me.
It was as if he held the worlds most delicate piece of glass work.
As though if he held on just a little too tightly I would disintegrate to dust and he would have to clean up the mess.
But what he did not know is that I am not glass work.
I am a marble statue.
Holding my own and lasting through time, and harsh, unforgiving elements.
I have seen hurricanes that could not break me.
His gentle careful touch is not what I craved.
I craved the storms and the forces of nature.
I yearned for him to touch me as if I would not break.
To hold me, but not fasten me down.
As if I would float away, whispering sweet goodbyes in the breeze.
To treat me as a goddess, and view me as immortal.
That I can and will hold my own.
I just craved his company and the strong, but loving touch of a man
who is not afraid to ignite my fire and watch me burn.
And maybe even burn with me."
YOU ARE READING
A Collection Of Things I Am To Afraid To Say
RandomSometimes, writing down what you wish you could say, is enough to make you better.
