melancholy

An emotional confession that will make you write poems to the one you love

Imagery via  Piot Brehmer

Imagery via Piot Brehmer

A smile
I hope it’s contagious.
As my lips curve I look to yours
And see a slight turn up,
Feel your eyes on me,
And feel your breath when there is no light.
The snow dances in front of me.
The flakes exploring the air around me
Nestle into my hair
And kiss my eyelashes.
I walk toward you
And let the snow seep into my hair,
Drip down my nose,
Dampen my coat.On any other day I might be annoyed,
But today
I don’t really notice.
It cleanses my mind and makes me forget about how fucked up I am.
I feel present.The cold wind freezes my wet skin and gives me goose bumps
But I imagine your touch:
Warm,
Inviting…
Delicious,
And it might as well be summer.
I stick out my tongue and let the flakes settle and melt,
Melting so fast they’re barely there.
And I remember the cold.
You always remember,
Even if you live somewhere like Florida.I want to go for a walk,
And I want to watch a movie,
And I want you to touch the bare skin on my shoulders and look at me
And smile
Like you did that one Saturday afternoon when we listened –
To classical music,
To each other,
To the world…
And you said you dig me.

I want to smell my hair and instantly be
Happy
Because it smells like your pillow.

I think I am incredibly fucked up.
Because I want other things too.

I want to take a break.
Escape.
Play hide and seek with my mind.
Do you see me?
How about now?

I’m no good at it,
But practice makes perfect.
At least that’s what they say.
But who are they and what do they know anyway?

Just look at me and smile.
So I know you’re really here,
And that you see me,
And that everything is okay.
I need everything to be okay.
And maybe then I’ll smile
Because they’re contagious you know.

Maybe if I was addicted to cigarettes
Instead of you…
Maybe if I gave in to you
Instead of the demons that whisper to me when I’m alone
My mind would be able to rest for a minute
And I could find some control.

Fuck.

I had key points for this.
For you.
I was going to say a lot and bite my lip and make you fall in love with me.
Not because I love you,
But because I’m in desperate need of a reason to love myself.
I need to get more organized.
I’ll start tomorrow.

Submitted to ArtParasites by Sid Wold