trying this thing called…
You’re thinking that your love is a sin, obsession is a shame.
She has that name of something you’d hate to forget.
It’s in the edge of your night. She doesn’t know.
You’re somewhere between letting go and holding on. She doesn’t know.
You’re kissing her again.
A heart breaks silently.
The taste linger. She doesn’t know.
You’re sixteen and confused.
Which part of this world would you hold onto?
The gravity? The space?
Will you stay in your cage? Or would you rather let yourself free?
Because the door is always opened.
It never locked in the first place.
You’re sixteen. She smiles beside you.
There she is, part of your dream.
Part of your life.
You’re punishing yourself, every second for it.
Someday when it’s long enough.
You won’t remember the pain any longer.
Her name will be a memory, some notes on your journal.
You don’t know that.
Because you’re only sixteen.
And your love is unrequited.
If I had to choose which memories I can erase about you
Is when you think it’s only a small drizzle,
when in fact it was a storm
That you think I lost a part,
when in fact I lost everything
That day when you said you didn’t need anyone
as I was left there, open armed
There they are
I’d still like to keep a few thoughts
Days we lived by together
When you like strange things I like
Or touches from your hands
into my soul
That vibrant color of your smile
There they are
And if I’m not your sunlight,
still you are mine
You can fall in love with a foreign country, or a book, or the first line in your favorite poem.
You can fall in love with languages, and the culture it brings.
You can fall in love with the morning train to your campus, and the light peeping out of the window kissing your face.
You can fall in love with your new shoes or the rush as you walk into a store. You can fall in love with the overwhelming experience life can give you.
You can fall in love with the playground you used to visit at child. You can fall in love with the smell of cookies, fresh from the oven.
You can fall in love with the idea of a lover instead of an actual lover because for once, it doesn’t have to be a boy that you should turn into a man. It doesn’t have to be a wedding it could be a simple vow. And yes, it doesn’t have to be a person, as long as your heart is lifted from everything it hates, then that’s it. That’s love.”
Woodlander series doodles: Red
A transparent, messy, awkward Gipsy Danger doodle