The last time I fell in love was too long to be remembered. Its a part of me that is to near yet so far all at once. Its been so long since I felt that familiar thumpa thumpa against my rib cage or the soothing warmth in the apples of the cheek. Memories are all that is left of the love I once shared with the person that suddenly became my world and my heartbreak in a fast, accelerating phase...to the person my words are created, to the soul my sentiments are dedicated. Its been so long since I felt the rush of writing about someone's smile or about someone else eyes but today, things are staring to change.
He came like rain, the incognito smell of the soil below my feet rising from the earth to my nose...
wanting to be recognized, wanting to let me know its arrival. He is the sun after the down pour, and the rainbow that came after the rays spread in the horizon. He is the storm I'm afraid of, the lighting I despise but still he is thunder, the loud roar across the purview I eulogize.
He is every chirp of the birds in the morning and the delicate dew resting in the leaves at sunrise, reflecting the light as if its his own.
Darling, he is the sunset, dismal yet sure.. the melancholy of endings and utopia of new beginnings.He is the starts in the sky at night, the bright lone moon that takes ownership of the vast azure. The silence that envelopes the immense space in between the heaven and earth.
Boy, he is the sounds in the morning, the serine, silent, and comforting tune of induction.
He is every lyrics in my favorite lone song, the words in the my most hated one. He is everything all at the same time, bad or good, he is that and this. He fuels my passion, he triggers my artistry. He pulls all the words in my head and drags some I never knew I have kept.
He is the person my adjective describes. He is someone my verbs move with. He all my words are written about. The new soul my words are meant.
They say when a writer love, its all feelings and emotion, Poured like infinity, not looking after the source. Not minding the lost, just keeps gushing until he is drenched, wet, and covered. With the sensation, with the vehemence of dolor and admiration.
You are my everything now, just like how my words are eternal.
As the familiar thumpa thumpa against my rib cage inflate and the warmth in my cheek spread, you'll be the soul I'll be writing about, now and forever.