Storytellers

Maybe in some life we’ll rewrite our story, how we met and how things turned out. Maybe this time I’d stay and we’d talk for hours and I’d fall asleep to the sound of your breath and the only light that would fill the room would be your eyes and how they shined when you smiled.

Your smile, oh god, when you smile, it feels like the only reason for my existence and that nothing and no one ever before this was of any meaning and whatever I’ve been doing was only to bring me here, to see you smile and to look in to your eyes forever.

Your eyes, your big bright eyes, how they hold the secrets of the world. That in order for me to unravel them I have to be bold and yet soft, because they hold so much meaning as to why your world, our world, molds so perfectly and is held so safely in your hands.

Your hands, your delicate hands, that seem so small but yet they hold everything together, mending and fixing all the broken pieces of me and making them whole again for you and for us so that you can keep me safe in your heart.

Your heart, your beautifully broken heart that still beats for me, that is so fragile yet so strong. That no matter how many times it was let down, or how many times it was left disappointed, it is still filled with so much love and I cannot understand how anyone can have so much of love for some one who was never meant to stay.

Maybe in some life we’ll rewrite our story, how we met and how things turned out. Maybe this time I’d stay and we’d talk for hours and I’d fall asleep to the sound of your breath.

You.

Me.

And your light.

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