Little Thoughts

Apricot

Yellow-orange, sweet.
I close my eyes to find her and see a glistening, dark rock. Maybe a cliff side.
I don't understand the significance.
Sparkling, covered with this color from a shining light on its left face.
I can't look forever, but if I could, I would.
My eyes closed, smiling; just the same as the grin on my face.

My heart beats as I hear him snore. I come out from within my head, I stop thinking about her.
The girl whose lips I can only assume are as succulent to mine as a soft fruit. Juicy, tender, ripe with curiosity.
What I wouldn't do to get one chance to kiss from her blushed cheeks to her ear. Just so I could whisper, "You make me so, so happy."

I can't fathom falling in love again.
But, at the same time, I'm falling again.
For two separate people.

Harder, farther, more patiently, and without care for myself. That's the hard part.
I'm letting more and more people make me feel useless.

He tends to make me feel happy, but I feel like I'm not satisfying for his ever growing mind. I can't entice him like I used to. My body isn't even enough.

But this girl, wow, she brings my heart to a content place. She is so very bright, colorful, small, and precious. She is just the same as an apricot you pick fresh.

My mind is telling me,
"You must be carful, she is fragile. A few scratches already graced her before you knew her.
You must be cautious, she could lose her sights for you. Others appreciate her soft, loving smile as well.
But most of all, this feeling might not always stick.
She's not the evergreen, always full of life.
She's not the night sky, always sparkling."

My first love, goddamn she was as full as the night sky. In heart, in mind, in soul. Always ablaze with thoughts, much too many for her head.

My second, and current, love. Fuck. He's absolutely stunning. From head to toe, an evergreen; dripping with knowledge, charisma, and an artists attitude that drives me wild.

I hope my love can come to his senses. But if not, I hope this isn't the same. I hope that this apricot, sweet and soft as ever, doesn't turn to mush from the touch of my hand. I hope to never let her rot away. Even if that means she'll never be all mine.
I couldn't stand losing her now and to be selfish in love.