He had that odd sort of melancholy
That stilled everything around him, gently
rippling, like a shimmer, like
the ground does, on a searing hot day
when the sun bears down with all its intensity
He had that.
Dry, parched- but not barren
Simply lying in wait
He had that
He had his aura and his atmosphere
He carried his own gravity
How could I stay away?
How could I not be drawn in?
This man walked beside me
With worlds within him
I want to stop believing, sometimes, I do
But I take one look at you, and I hope anew.
Between all the constant upheavals and interruptions in my life, you are the one constant.
I wish you would read, I wish you would know.
Know and appreciate how precious everything I give you is.
But there are some mountains even hope can’t climb.
And that’s just how it is.