Trying put into words someone who can only be described adqueatly in my imagination.....
Wow, is this an infatuation or is this something more serious?
Do I sincerely care? It has to be an infatuation that seems to be lasting the test of time. I havn't talked to you in what seems like an eternity. And though I know you belong to someone else, I can't help but feel the pain; knowing it was because of me that you met him. Just looking at your picture makes me melt. The way you simle. The way it captures me, like a fish on a hook. The way you stand. Almost goddess like, just slightly off balance so it seems like your center of gravity is somewhere, where no mere mortal can have it. Almost as if the zephyrs rush over to you just to be graced enough to hold you up as you pose in you perfection. I love the complexion of your skin. The way your hair hangs off the side of you face. The way your face turns into a cherry pink when you blush, while the rest of you body is still snow white. Your physique is so perfect, were you alive during the renaissance, Michelangelo would have surely sculpted you out of marble. I feel like your eyes can just burn a hole through my soul. But the certainty of never being with you kills a part of me, that was brought to life knowing someone like you exsists. But the sadest part isn't the fact that I am writing this. The sadder truth is you will never know that someone felt this way about you, and would say such things knowing that these words are going to fade away into my memories to be lost forever.
Do I sincerely care? It has to be an infatuation that seems to be lasting the test of time. I havn't talked to you in what seems like an eternity. And though I know you belong to someone else, I can't help but feel the pain; knowing it was because of me that you met him. Just looking at your picture makes me melt. The way you simle. The way it captures me, like a fish on a hook. The way you stand. Almost goddess like, just slightly off balance so it seems like your center of gravity is somewhere, where no mere mortal can have it. Almost as if the zephyrs rush over to you just to be graced enough to hold you up as you pose in you perfection. I love the complexion of your skin. The way your hair hangs off the side of you face. The way your face turns into a cherry pink when you blush, while the rest of you body is still snow white. Your physique is so perfect, were you alive during the renaissance, Michelangelo would have surely sculpted you out of marble. I feel like your eyes can just burn a hole through my soul. But the certainty of never being with you kills a part of me, that was brought to life knowing someone like you exsists. But the sadest part isn't the fact that I am writing this. The sadder truth is you will never know that someone felt this way about you, and would say such things knowing that these words are going to fade away into my memories to be lost forever.