Embottled

I thought I could get him out of my head. I thought that if I kept busy and didn’t pay attention to him that his beautiful mind wouldn’t embottle me in utter agony but I was wrong.

Something about his smile. Something about the way he holds himself up like he’s made of gold. Full of elegance, full of grace like an extremely warm embrace.

It feels like he might destroy me. It feels like I might break but is it worth it just to meet his face?

Time is taking toll, he’s fading far away but his warmth still lingers under my skin. His voice still echoes in the wind.

His skin glistens. It speaks, words that I could never repeat.

He follows me. But not physically, he follows me where no one else can go, where the wind doesn’t blow. Only where I can hear, in the flowing of my tears.

Rain pours on the inner parts of my soul, parts that he’ll never know.