capulet,
Writing about you, the one I love, is quite a feat, I must confess. I’ve written a great deal about love and all its intricacies; from its heartwarming innocence down to the gory, unforgivable bits of reality it ensues. Yet when I get the sudden urge to turn you into words - to break you down into literature - nothing comes out.
The words, the punctuations, and the tiny smudges of ink that cling to the end of each letter all become meaningless when stitched together for they prove to be insufficient - lacking in essence. My penmanship worsens as I struggle to fill each page with words worthy enough to describe you and all the things you make my uncertain heart feel. What is it about you that leaves me absolutely tongue-tied?
Is it the soft, gentle tone in your voice that arrests me and holds me captive long after we stop talking? Could it be that athletic build of yours; your perfectly sculpted figure that boasts to none? Is it the way your eyes light up when you talk about the things that excite you; these things that ignite your passions? Or is it perhaps the way you turn vulnerability into something beautiful when others would treat it as something to be ashamed of?
I guess if I were sure about something, it’s the fact that my memories of you are what I long to write most about.
I remember the way you’d gently pull my head towards your shoulder, as if giving me permission to lay there and doze off for a while. I can still feel your arms wrapped around me in an affectionate embrace while you whisper oh-so-few loving words that never fail to tease my senses. I recall the way our hearts would waltz with each other as our favorite ballad plays and how perfectly our love matched the beat of every song.
I go back to the times you said my name; the smooth, unrushed moments each syllable would escape your lips. I don't think I've heard anyone say it better than you.
Every single memory I have of you, each moment that I continuously dwell upon, remains engraved in the deepest corners of my mind. Why should I deprive the world of knowing someone as great as you, the one person who leaves me speechless by saying so little?
So here I am, pen in hand and you on my mind, together with a new-found eagerness to transform you into a masterpiece. It still challenges me to write about you though I’ve come to a point where I crave the blank spaces, untidy erasures, and trips down memory lane - a place I’m beginning to call home.
Literary (Submission): Memory Lane
Writing about you, the one I love, is quite a feat, I must confess. I’ve written a great deal about love and all its intricacies; from its heartwarming innocence down to the gory, unforgivable bits of reality it ensues. Yet when I get the sudden urge to turn you into words - to break you down into literature - nothing comes out.
The words, the punctuations, and the tiny smudges of ink that cling to the end of each letter all become meaningless when stitched together for they prove to be insufficient - lacking in essence. My penmanship worsens as I struggle to fill each page with words worthy enough to describe you and all the things you make my uncertain heart feel. What is it about you that leaves me absolutely tongue-tied?
Is it the soft, gentle tone in your voice that arrests me and holds me captive long after we stop talking? Could it be that athletic build of yours; your perfectly sculpted figure that boasts to none? Is it the way your eyes light up when you talk about the things that excite you; these things that ignite your passions? Or is it perhaps the way you turn vulnerability into something beautiful when others would treat it as something to be ashamed of?
I guess if I were sure about something, it’s the fact that my memories of you are what I long to write most about.
I remember the way you’d gently pull my head towards your shoulder, as if giving me permission to lay there and doze off for a while. I can still feel your arms wrapped around me in an affectionate embrace while you whisper oh-so-few loving words that never fail to tease my senses. I recall the way our hearts would waltz with each other as our favorite ballad plays and how perfectly our love matched the beat of every song.
I go back to the times you said my name; the smooth, unrushed moments each syllable would escape your lips. I don't think I've heard anyone say it better than you.
Every single memory I have of you, each moment that I continuously dwell upon, remains engraved in the deepest corners of my mind. Why should I deprive the world of knowing someone as great as you, the one person who leaves me speechless by saying so little?
So here I am, pen in hand and you on my mind, together with a new-found eagerness to transform you into a masterpiece. It still challenges me to write about you though I’ve come to a point where I crave the blank spaces, untidy erasures, and trips down memory lane - a place I’m beginning to call home.
bakit ang galing :(((
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