• the_lost_melody 39w


    Do you ever wonder what love looks like? Outside novels and movies? In the world that we live in? I think love is constrained and the choking sounds you make, it's the way your throat closes up when you want to speak the most. It's the raw feeling that gnaws at you and leaves you in between death and living.

    I may be wrong Cyan. But to me love is but the edges of such moments. When one is swallowing cries and still waiting for that comforting touch, that same old familiar voice to tell you it's alright. In the end of the day, no matter how messed up you are, you are their home and they are yours.

    If love was but memories, it wouldn't walk the path of a lifetime. But you see Cyan, it's not memories. It's a slow burn, an imprint on your soul, on your body, on your mind. It's a painful torture that you carry, but it feels right to possess it, to be on the receiving end of something that you would have endless regrets about. To be privileged of such pain, because in turn you have received love. Love, an invisible blanket you can wrap yourself in, even in the darkest and coldest of nights.

    So you see Cyan, why I don't talk about love? Today, I saw you smile at me when you passed by me in the crowded craft fair. Cyan, I think I should stop thinking about you, it's time. Because I'm afraid of love.

    Yours in oceanic raptures of time,