If it’s so wrong, why does it feel so right?
You reached in through the cobwebs and flipped a switch that I had long thought broken. To my surprise, it only took the right hand to make it work again.
Searching for a Friend on a Rainy Day
It’s cold and wet outside and I have nowhere to go. I wander the streets aimlessly, searching for someone who will share their company with me, but no luck so far. I look up at the people that walk by, but no one will stop for me. I chase cars to pass the time, but even this is beginning to seem pointless. I keep asking myself why I do it and I can’t seem to find an answer. I fear what will become of me.
I just want someone to share a bone with.
You were so convinced that it could never be, you failed to see the signs that said it could.
Now it’s too late.
I’ve noticed a pattern in my writing; the most recurring theme in everything I write is love. The most frequently used tag on this blog is “love”, and the situation at ‘The Gallery of Me’ is no different.
I’m sure this is somehow valuable information, but I don’t yet know how to interpret it.
Don’t mind me, just making an observation.
They say love is supposed to set you free, not chain you up.
I would like to sit with you in complete silence. I would like to just sit with you and nothing more.
Well, maybe stroke your hair. And touch your cheeks. And kiss your lips. But nothing more.