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.