I suppose, I felt like for the would have been 25th 25th, I wanted to thank you a little. Because I feel this is special, somehow. I don't know. That might just be me being oddly sentimental again. You know how I get. You've always known. So here it is. A thank you post.
Just for the beauty of the world you brought, both wonderful and tragic.
So I guess I'll just be copy-pasting old verses I've written that I feel ring true with everything I've ever felt. Through all of it. My favorite verses from each poem I've ever written. Somehow, I feel like it'll capture and explain all the words I always end up stumbling over. A summary, I suppose. If you ever wanted to know my own side of things, though it'd be pretty strange if you didn't know by now.
Here it is, the story of you and me. As told by my poetry through the past more-than-two-years.
"And I'm not the angel,
that you seem to think I am."
"Because I know that the truth
is you're driving me crazy.
And I've fallen for you too."
"You're insane, and unpredictable.
Insecure and full of pride.
Impulsive and far too rational.
And you're a crazy contradiction.
But I wouldn't have you
any other way."
"It was more about that smile
which you couldn't help but give
whenever we talked
about the next 20 years
of pillow forts and cookie jars
and hunting down the ones
who'd try to take the kids."
"Because you were always more
than just my standards, love.
You picked them up
and threw them at my face.
Looked back with your
defiant stubborness
and kissed away
the doubt.
Because it's [you]
I chose, love.
Not the mirrored ideas
of whatever I might have wanted
[you] to be.
It's [you] and not
whatever the standards
told you what you should have been."
"But darling, you rushed right in
and promised me the [universe]
until the end of time.
[Made me believe you,
and grasp onto that shard of hope.]
And did, just as you often do.
You proved me wrong."
"That underneath the insanity
and irrational defiance
and theoretical niceness,
the jigsaw puzzle of [you]
was never anything short
of beautiful"
"Darling, we were blinding
with the brilliance we had
and no one else
could quite compare
and we were young,
and we were foolish.
And we had dared to [dream.]"
"We scattered the stars
and marked the sky with [us].
And it was a story
that could only ever finish
with one, unexpected,
untimely ending."
"And you were the rush of stardust
that I needed to breathe in my life,
when you rushed right in and taught me
just how to feel [alright] again."
"Darling, you had always been
my best source of hope
that I could change the world."
"And you always knew just how terrified I was,
but fought your way through,
and destroyed every cover I had set up,
even when my thorns tore at you"
"and I could make believe I had something
to say that was utterly beautiful
and that maybe the [universe]
could care,
and that someone would hear."
"with your effortless ways
of making me smile again,
and this time, I could almost bring myself
to mean it."
"when all you ever wanted to do
was kiss every scar
and make me make-believe
that I was [beautiful]"
"you, my dear, were real
and didn't need wings to try to help you
because you were always brave enough
to try to fly [without them.]"
"We scoured the skies
and found a story for each star.
Breathed life into the flowers
and cracks in buildings we would see.
When we took the world apart
through each other's eyes
and put it back together
until we couldn't see the lines
between your world and mine.
And all you ever wanted to do
was save the people falling off rooftops
while I would kick them off again
to teach them how to fly.
And when the rooftop cleared
we'd sit and talk for hours
until the skies went through every color.
Because dear, you made the world explode
with laughter and sparks and wicked dreams
and life became my favorite artform.
Where we'd laugh about their sanity
and smile when people called us crazy.
Flip off every single one of them
who didn't believe we could change the world."
"We knew characters and plots
and made verses out of nothing.
We talked in symbols and metaphors,
and made stories out of all our days.
Our love was a [literary] happening,
sprinkled with glimmers in its cracks.
We scribbled oaths into the earth,
in days I still believed all that."
"when they took each other hands
and dared to scream their love out loud."
"We streaked through the night skies
and left cracks to fall through
for each and every one of our stars."
"Because I never really got used
to sleeping in the dark.
But I didn't have much choice
when you took back all our stars."
"Waiting for the familiar path
your battle-stained fingers
used to trace along these veins."
"I was grasping for the metaphors
and the little details of you
that had made you something inexplicable"
Merry Christmas, I suppose, Dumdum. No idea if you still check this blog, but meh~
Happy would have been 25th 25th.
