Getting to the stairwell

the rain threatens to strike us all,

even if it hasn’t actually touched us yet

we’re ready for its downpour.

I can feel you squeezing

pulling me into a crevice.

Questions come because the sky is so dark

I am all out of breath,

it’s hard to answer when I’m staring

you’re the only thing blocking me

beautiful you, you’re all I see.

Shame on you for showing up

upsetting the balance in my life

taking from all the pretty flowers

in the field next to my bedroom window.

It took months of planning

to get the bulbs through all the seasons,

cold sensitive frost bitten nights,

and now this threatening rain.

The delicate gems are coming up,

rebirth and love in covered in happiness.

This is a throwback time for sure,

but here you are, shame on you

being so beautiful. You can’t tell me

you haven’t noticed it too. Far from eyes

maybe I’m the only one

who sees you in this light, but then again,

most of my life I’ve searched for beauty.

Beautiful you, I am thankful to have you

I may not need flowers anymore.

I’m careful what I want you to be in life,

it’s senseless to think I could love

anyone more than this right here.

It’s obviously a crazy kind of dangerous

to put so much faith in someone

other than myself, but here you are

my sweet sensation with tattoos.

Eventually everything fades,

except these feelings that light up

and spark all motivation to get to you.

In 100 years when we’re long gone

someone is bound to find these words

a digital diary of sorts chronicling

how surprised I ever was

by someone so beautiful

that asked me to write.

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