Turned upside down and thrown against walls of brick.
That beating figure everyone describes with such cliche intentions.
It was tormented.
The one thing I have trouble putting in words. The one thing I can't force my
fingers to produce with the aid of ink.
Despite my hesitation to allow my heart to feel again, I've let you in.
I've only stared into your eyes for so long.
Only felt your kiss ever so briefly, but it felt right.
And every time I think of the rain now, all I feel is the comfort of your palms
against my hips.
I'm known to push away. To cross roads sporting smiles unfamiliar.
I'm known to only accept winds I've known to brush my hair away
I don't know your wind. But its warm.
I want to wrap myself in its blanket pure and true.
I want to know what it feels like to be held again.
I want you to hold me.
The roots of your tree have grown beneath the surface.
They've reached me, and have begun to grow with mine.
Their intertwining bark is strong.
Although new, no branch has the desire to stretch farther than your grasp.
I like the feeling of you.
I don't want to let go of this.
