Colette

You bring out the child in me, taking me back to a time when adventures started right as we walked out of our bedroom doors. We leave our shoes on the porch and run bare foot into the feeds that surround our homes. We clime trees to escape the world, just because its that easy. We talk about the future with out hesitation but with adrenalin. We say I love you, not being afraid of it, not knowing what could become of it but just living in the moment. With my crayon and your paper we create art. Although everyone else would see it a mess of lines, we see it as a dragon, as the moon, as anything we want it to be, because reality does not limit us. We go above and beyond. Out of this world, just the stars in the sky that fly above us, just like the clouds that we make shapes out of. Nothing holds us back, because we masterminds, partners in crime, you are my robber and I am your get-away driver, I perfect yet mischievous pare. We laugh as if tomorrow we could laugh no more; we play as if today was our last, we live as if we would die with out each other. We love as children do, innocent and pure. We see as though we’re looking though a child’s eyes, almost blind to anything unworthy of our imagination. Even on dark nights, we’re still golden. When I’m with you, I feel like it’s meant to be, when I look into your eyes I see the child in me.

I was nothing more than a little girl, bare foot, playing in the forest that surrounded me. As if I thought bad things didn’t exists in my forest. As if my eyes could not see the shadows that lurked behind those trees. I pretended that everything was okay, for so long. I let the little girl run with imagination, color my world, masking what it really was, finger painting it out to be something that it wasn’t. The girl was stubborn, she refused to let anything take away her happiness, even though is was only pretend. It was only her imagination. Her forest was not the beautiful utopia that she had made it out to be. It was cover with sticks and rocks that cut bare feet and bruised her skin. She ran very time a rock pierced her perfect, mind made paradise. Refusing to believe that her happiness could be flawed..until, one day she fell. Her forest came crashing down. All the colors in the world could not paint over the disaster that lied on her shoulders. It now was as if the dress she wore was to much to hold. It was then that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. She didn’t play pretend, imagination was lost with her finger paintings. I was forced to see reality. I lied on the dirt, clutching my hand to the broken heart that was dying inside of me. I heard footsteps, and when I looked up, I saw your silhouette in the sun light. You walked towards me and as you grew closer, I saw that your feet were bare too. I sat on my knees watching you. Noticing all the bruises that you had too. I looked past the strong man that stood before me and saw the broken wings inside of you. Both of our hands reached out, then hesitated, both too hurt and scared to take that chance, Both like fireflies that had burned out. But I took your hand and you kissed my palm and our hearts filled with that fire. Our bodies engulfed in our flame and our bare feet walked along the soft grass that paved our future.

Anonymous asked: do you miss me yet?

depends on who this is.

I’m still here

After everything you did, after everything you said

After all those endless tears, the nights when my mind wouldn’t rest,

I’m still here.

I see you walk by, I see look at me, you glance away from her, only for the slightest of seconds

But I see you. I know my face never leaves your mind, the pain of what you did, how I felt, it never leaves your heart. But you will never know the feeling of your heart, when it is like the pieces of a broken bottle that people walk on when they walk down the street. Breaking each piece a little more with every step.

I’m still here.

You’ve always told me what I’ve wanted to hear without realizing that it is a lie. You don’t think about what falls from your mouth. You are a child with no mother to hold your hand while you walk down the street. You walk freely with no consideration to the world around you. All the cars swerve, trying not to hit the innocent child, damaging only themselves for the sake of your life. And you don’t even notice nor do you understand, because you are nothing but a child with no mother to hold his hand.

I’m still here.

Everyone told me, I knew it all so well but my mind refused to believe. Your innocence reassured me that there was nothing to fear, but my eyes were blind to your empty hands. The hands that had no guidance, no self knowledge. You were so confused, yet you had it all figured out. You were just as blind as I. No comprehension of what was to come, what was to be your cause and effect. Your motherless hands had not yet learned that cars that were broken and smashed were the effect of your innocent cause.

I’m still here.

I don’t know why I haven’t left. Why I still tell you its going to be okay. Why I tell myself that this doesn’t hurt. I suppose it’s because I know, someday you’ll realize that the cars that were broken and bruised were the effect of you and your motherless hands. I wish I could take your hand, like you mother never took yours and tell you what she should have told you. It’s not nice to go around breaking things. You should have known better. You don’t walk into the street with out looking both ways first. You don’t speak words that have no meaning only to make it all better. There is a cause and effect to everything you do. You must look at every possibility, and not ignore the ones that don’t have the happy ending, for this world is not always happy. She should have told you, that there are people in this world that will love you unconditionally, no matter what. And those are the people that forgive you for not looking both ways first.

I’m still here.