I am but a series of sad lamentations, repeated in various strokes and scratches of crimson ink. The only difference now is my pleas reach the ears of the one I love and his longings match my own. No longer wandering aimlessly, I’ve already found the rainbow leading to Neverland, it’s only a matter of waiting patiently.

Dearest, I’m torn. Wishing to doze away the days to bring myself closer to touching your face but the present has me pleasantly shackled and I cannot escape to dreamscape seclusion. I feel the weight of every second click. I feel the pressure of each sunset spent without you, but you know of my glistening sunrise and her songbird laughter. As much as I wish to sleep though dawn, each morning brings new wonder, new love, which simply makes me long for your presence all the more. It’s as though your niche in my life has been painfully chiseled and it’s only waiting for your warmth. We’re only waiting for you to come home.

Tagged:  prose,   words,  
  1. cherrylisraindrops reblogged this from burningmuse and added:
    I am but a series of sad lamentations, repeated in various strokes and scratches of crimson ink. The only difference now...
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  5. sarhana-banana said: BEAUTIFULLY WORDED DEAR! Love every word. Talent it is what you have and a great one it is!
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  8. ordinarywonder said: This is beautiful.
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