Eloquent Seems
What does one say about a person who seems to fall in love with someone to only amount up to the word "seem"? I'll try to put the seams together.
I think it might be the corruption you've erupted in your heart-- your betrayal of your own soul-- wicked, immutable, saturated habits that don't perceive the hurtful muck you produce-- it's like holding a piece of pie in front of a hunger deprived African tribe and making them watch you eat the cherry skin that is red as the sun at dawn. You massage your lips with sugars of your indecision, and wipe your mouth with the emotions of your victims, but I can't blame you, because I don't understand you.
You're as beautiful as the ocean, but treacherous as the waves. You carry curves that could out strike a baseball player, any day, and when your eyes meet with men their posture tightens, their spinal cords twist as if it were a corkscrew. You leave them stifled with those bottomless eyes. You're a sliver bullet of beauty ready to strike your next acquaintance, because you could never truly have a friend. My mother told me when I was younger, " mijo, love is patient... love walks in small paces," so I'll try my best to understand
What does one say about a person who seems to fall in love with someone to only amount up to the word "seem"? It's a person like you, so deathly beautiful any creature who tried to make a move would fall in love with your handwoven, neatly tighten cover-- instead of your handwritten literature that carried the sway of its author, perfectly shaped letters with an autonomous style like no other. You may be misunderstood, but when you wake in the morning feeling lonely just know that there's a boy out there who's mad about you--every curve and every comma-- And If humans were literature you'd be the beginning, middle, and the end-- and i would be the shelf, the bookend-- so close, but not entirely enough, for you.