Post by Lothyna on Oct 9, 2010 1:11:16 GMT -5
About this: Normally I'd not say aught, but this was actually a step, an introduction, into a final term paper I wrote on what Love is, and what society considers such, etc, and what it is to have faith in it. It is, however, very much in the style I write when I do so for and wholly of myself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His eyes, boring into your soul; the colors of earth, life’s home, staring through the grime-coated glass, past the cracks. It’s as if he can see your innermost secrets, bring your demons to life along with your angels. That soft brown that draws you in further than you’d ever meant to go. It was a joke, a game. How did it get here, his smirking lips belying the need shadowed in those orbs of life? When did it become something so driving in your life?
Looking back into the mirror, and through it, a further mirror in his eyes, his face, you can’t help but wonder- do you care anymore? The impurities, the sins, the lust and love, hate and bittersweet memories, the trust and underlying desire; they’ve always been there. They always will be. It’s all you have sometimes, lying alone at night thinking of him. He’s staring back, a query of thought flickering in those brown depths before he turns.
Wordlessly, you shake your head. These moments, the time stolen alone; they’re far too precious to waste with words. You never needed them before, why should you now? And he knows, the simple smile turning those swollen, love-bruised lips of his up as he leans back, a love deeper than any you’ve seen in his eyes. And it’s for you, it’s all for you. He’s always given you that look. As a child, when he ran to you instead of his mother, cried himself to sleep in your arms from the nightmares. As a teenager, looking at the cheap cigarette and candy-flavored bubble-gum romances, wanting something purer.
Now, as himself, still loving just as much as those years ago when you first kissed him, his first, your only meaningful one. The taste of him in your mouth has lingered to this day, a haunting, scintillating tease, a ghosting, wondrous dream. Without his touch and scent, you asphyxiate on the cardboard smoke and gunpowder, the carcinogen screams of the masses.
But not with him. With him you find freedom from the crushing pressure, a reprieve from life and everyone’s demands. With him, you don’t have to be the prettiest, bravest, and strongest. He’d think you were no matter what. He’s always understood, behind the joking, insufferable idiot he acts with everyone else.
He’s watching you, smiling as if he can see every thought in your head. And he can, you know he can, because he thinks the same. The perfect trail of his lips over yours is a fleeting brush of heaven-sent purity. Love should not be condemned, it –is-. Yet you both hide this, just a little longer.
He’s reaching for you, a smoother hand than yours, without the calluses from years of your life, pulling your body back against his, lean plane upon lean plane, clothed figure seeking the heat you offer. You seek that heat too, never mind the others so close, yet so far away. In this moment, the reality that you hold in your hands is sweeter than any chocolate, save the tones in his eyes as he smiles, softer than down.
That’s the smile you cherish, the one that you’ve only seen directed at you. Holding him close, it’s easy to let the world melt away. Outisde of this moment, this warm, loving <strike>being</strike> angel in your arms, hands sliding up your back gently, nothing exists. In this one moment, as your lips brush his, swollen with love equally, shared with eachother equally, you find perfection. This is what it should be.
This is how you want to live your life. He’s in your arms, eyes closed as he melts into you, warming your heart. This is where you belong, holding him close as if he’s made of glass even when you know, you’ve seen, he can take anything and get up. Anything but you being hurt.
The need for air, the kind of air that is one thing he can’t give you, though with him it tastes like sunshine and dew, draws you to part finally, leaving him panting, eyes glazed, staring at you. Under the lust that sends shivers down your spine lies that endless love. As you fight to think, he smirks slowly, that little spreading smile that says, “I know what you want, and I just might give you it.”
A soft whimper almost, almost passes your lips before he steals it with another kiss, then pulls back, tucking his head under your chin. It’s his favorite place, being curled onto your chest. And even when you know that your stay in heaven is finite, he’ll always bring you back with him. You don’t even have to ask.
Looking down, you can’t help the smile that traces your lips so rarely as he nuzzles your chest, hearts beating in time, soft as petals blown free of their rose. A moment more, and with that sad, bittersweet smile, he kisses you one last time before pulling you back out into the cruel winter lights of reality. Just before he opens the door, he turns back to you.
“I love you...” And he’s gone, once more acting the dork of a friend that you pretend irritates you beyond belief. But you’ll always have that piece of heaven, carried in your mouth from his kiss, your heart from his love, and his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His eyes, boring into your soul; the colors of earth, life’s home, staring through the grime-coated glass, past the cracks. It’s as if he can see your innermost secrets, bring your demons to life along with your angels. That soft brown that draws you in further than you’d ever meant to go. It was a joke, a game. How did it get here, his smirking lips belying the need shadowed in those orbs of life? When did it become something so driving in your life?
Looking back into the mirror, and through it, a further mirror in his eyes, his face, you can’t help but wonder- do you care anymore? The impurities, the sins, the lust and love, hate and bittersweet memories, the trust and underlying desire; they’ve always been there. They always will be. It’s all you have sometimes, lying alone at night thinking of him. He’s staring back, a query of thought flickering in those brown depths before he turns.
Wordlessly, you shake your head. These moments, the time stolen alone; they’re far too precious to waste with words. You never needed them before, why should you now? And he knows, the simple smile turning those swollen, love-bruised lips of his up as he leans back, a love deeper than any you’ve seen in his eyes. And it’s for you, it’s all for you. He’s always given you that look. As a child, when he ran to you instead of his mother, cried himself to sleep in your arms from the nightmares. As a teenager, looking at the cheap cigarette and candy-flavored bubble-gum romances, wanting something purer.
Now, as himself, still loving just as much as those years ago when you first kissed him, his first, your only meaningful one. The taste of him in your mouth has lingered to this day, a haunting, scintillating tease, a ghosting, wondrous dream. Without his touch and scent, you asphyxiate on the cardboard smoke and gunpowder, the carcinogen screams of the masses.
But not with him. With him you find freedom from the crushing pressure, a reprieve from life and everyone’s demands. With him, you don’t have to be the prettiest, bravest, and strongest. He’d think you were no matter what. He’s always understood, behind the joking, insufferable idiot he acts with everyone else.
He’s watching you, smiling as if he can see every thought in your head. And he can, you know he can, because he thinks the same. The perfect trail of his lips over yours is a fleeting brush of heaven-sent purity. Love should not be condemned, it –is-. Yet you both hide this, just a little longer.
He’s reaching for you, a smoother hand than yours, without the calluses from years of your life, pulling your body back against his, lean plane upon lean plane, clothed figure seeking the heat you offer. You seek that heat too, never mind the others so close, yet so far away. In this moment, the reality that you hold in your hands is sweeter than any chocolate, save the tones in his eyes as he smiles, softer than down.
That’s the smile you cherish, the one that you’ve only seen directed at you. Holding him close, it’s easy to let the world melt away. Outisde of this moment, this warm, loving <strike>being</strike> angel in your arms, hands sliding up your back gently, nothing exists. In this one moment, as your lips brush his, swollen with love equally, shared with eachother equally, you find perfection. This is what it should be.
This is how you want to live your life. He’s in your arms, eyes closed as he melts into you, warming your heart. This is where you belong, holding him close as if he’s made of glass even when you know, you’ve seen, he can take anything and get up. Anything but you being hurt.
The need for air, the kind of air that is one thing he can’t give you, though with him it tastes like sunshine and dew, draws you to part finally, leaving him panting, eyes glazed, staring at you. Under the lust that sends shivers down your spine lies that endless love. As you fight to think, he smirks slowly, that little spreading smile that says, “I know what you want, and I just might give you it.”
A soft whimper almost, almost passes your lips before he steals it with another kiss, then pulls back, tucking his head under your chin. It’s his favorite place, being curled onto your chest. And even when you know that your stay in heaven is finite, he’ll always bring you back with him. You don’t even have to ask.
Looking down, you can’t help the smile that traces your lips so rarely as he nuzzles your chest, hearts beating in time, soft as petals blown free of their rose. A moment more, and with that sad, bittersweet smile, he kisses you one last time before pulling you back out into the cruel winter lights of reality. Just before he opens the door, he turns back to you.
“I love you...” And he’s gone, once more acting the dork of a friend that you pretend irritates you beyond belief. But you’ll always have that piece of heaven, carried in your mouth from his kiss, your heart from his love, and his eyes.
