Designer: Manikka
Resources: 1 2 3

There are three words that everyone throws around with way too much ease. For the longest time, I'd come to doubt the power vested in that phrase. And I called it stupid one time too many. And I've made jokes about it, answering "What is love?"s with "Sexy time, duh", way too many times, as well.

I guess people are right when they say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. The most painful memories are the ones that stick..it's like that psychological test, where you hold up a sheet of paper with one ink blot and ask people "What do you see?"

The damn ink blot, no shit.

So, pain? Everyone's gone through that..some more than others, some more deserving of it than others..but it's the same pain, nonetheless. And that pain..it's something you have to suck up and fight. It's not something you forget. It's not something you can toss away. Hell, sometimes it's not even something you get over -or something you should get over. More often than not, it's something you carry with you -not as a scar or a burden, but more like a reminder..not as a trophy, either..something buried a little closer to Home.

Pain and love..as psychotic as it sounds..go hand in hand. You live, you love, you lose, you learn..and, sooner or later, you start all over again. It didn't take me just six weeks to say three little words..it took me over a year. But now, you know for sure that I meant them..not just every word, or every syllable, or every letter..but the kisses between the lines and the whispers underlying.
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I haven't been able to write anything substancial, after that last entry..because all this time missing you just seems to translate into those same words over and over again.

How can it pain me so, to not have you with me?
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When rain falls like this,
your perfect chocolate skin, comes to mind.
Some switch in my head goes off,
and I swear
I can hear your breathing..
your breathing between kisses,
your sighs,
your breathing so entangled in my own
that breaths become kisses themselves.
The rain continues to fall, and
some ghost of those arms
and hands
make their way
up
and down
the skin of my back.
The droplets slide down my windows,
and I feel you and your breath
and your kisses on my neck
the way I feel the chill on my legs;
I see my soul reaching out to pull you close,
the way my actual arms reach
for coffee and sheets.
Every inch of me aches
for you:
you and your stares,
those looks, that face..
you and our limbs intertwined,
and your hands in mine.
How can the memory of your contour against mine,
dominate every thought and sense of my mind and flesh?
How can it pain me so, to not have you with me?
I want you, all the time..
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I thought the words would come, by now

..*clap clap* you've literally left me speechless
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We can begin with the knots in my stomach..or the marks on your neck. We can begin with the end: our goodbyes that make us forget about parting ways. We can begin with the way every touch seems to snake up my spine and render me senseless.

You always seem to render me senseless by causing every damn sense to overload and combust.

Then we can move on to how the silence between us seems to echo in steady waves..how your breathing is in perfect timing with mine, and how we fill the spaces between the kisses with sighs and sweet whispers. We can move on to the promises we make, and the confessions here and there.

I will always find ways to be with you. I'm not going anywhere. So let's begin and move on to every amazing new chapter but let's not end..I can't get over the novelty of every single emotion. I don't ever want to have to.
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..being with you is
something else, entirely.

It is an explosion
of buried emotion,
a rebirth of heresies
-it is the thought of a revolution,
it is a sharp intake of breath,
a million sighs,
swallowed tears,
laughter,
silence

..it is a slow breaking
and mending
of blood and bone.

It is a million handpicked words
that miss the mark,
a thousand caresses that fail
to touch the soul;
or, at the very least,
a thousand that haven't
gone so far as to phase past
the tens of thousands you've left
on mine.
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Tell me these words aren't right; that I have nothing to worry about..that I have no reason to pull things apart, and pick at my own remains. I'm not going back there..but that place has become as much a part of me, as Home.

I am relearning..everything..so tell me which words aren't right..

Betwixt a star -who is more to me than all the safety and silver in their so called world; and its sanctuary, there is renewal. It tells me that everything -not just words; will be alright, and I believe that this will be so. It promises that I will never go back there, and I am at ease.

There will always be so much more to write, on nights like this.
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It is past midnight; my day begins with thoughts of you. What else is new?
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