I want to be your passions. Include your frustrations when things don’t go as planned, and you run your hand through your hair or you bite your bottom lip excessively or you make that groaning sound from your throat. Include your fascinations when epiphanies hit you and your eyes sparkle like Christmas lights, or when you discover new things and your lips curve in that half-upturned way, halfway between a smile and a smirk. I want to be the first sip of coffee or the languid way you put on clothes when you haven’t had your coffee yet. I want to be the refreshing moments, like when you just got out of your shower. Or when you laid on your bed after a long, tiring day and you feel the knots on your back unravel. Or when you put on clothes freshly taken out of the dryer. Or when you learn something new, something good, something special, about yourself. I want to be the scent that takes you back to your childhood days when your mom would kiss your bruised knees, or when your dad would lift you up on his shoulders because you were the ruler and the world was for your conquest. I want to be a remembrance of family Saturday brunch, of the first day in kindergarten and the excitement in your eyes, of playground swings, and of making blanket forts with friends. I want to be your favorite song. Oh I wonder what it would be like to be the melody that soothes you. The music that creates slow dances in your heart and spins your soul into circles. Maybe I just want to be any song that knows your heart thoroughly and leaves imprints of memories in its wake.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
— (NJ.) // tired eyes & weary soul but still a beating heart #2
Posted by Smallville