My Late Night Confessional.
I’m writing to you because on nights like this, I wonder if the brightest stars look at your smile as a point of reference, if the moon isn’t sitting up in his place in the sky laughing at this girl who is asking God about how it feels to be head over heels in love, if he snickers at the sight of me pouring out my emotions in a poem only because of the loneliness crushing my bones and strangling my lungs solely for the fact that I couldn’t do you the decency of knowing you… of waking up next to you…that I couldn’t experience that moment of joy in your heart when you find out that my heartbeat reminded you of the lullaby your mother used to sing before bedtime, that the suns in my eyes didn’t have to set before you just yet…
This isn’t an apology, it’s a confessional…where I can confess that, if I could, I would take some of your body heat and store it in a jar, so that when I need to be reminded that I’m not alone, I’d open it and it would envelope me and hold me close just like you would if you found yourself sleeping next to me, and I’d curl up within it knowing that I slept with you that night…
This is not an apology, this is a confessional…where I can confess that I don’t think that there’s a minute in each day where I don’t think about the way your fingers would feel against my lips when I kiss them, or how that picture we took of us together on my phone is the only one I think I look beautiful in because it’d be the only one I look happy in because you’d make me happy, so fucking happy, I would dance with you in the pouring rain under pounding thunder and crashing lightning because you’d make me fearless, and sometimes I feel like life without you would just be a collection of blurred romances and unrequited love…
This is not an apology, this is a confessional…where I can admit that I’m afraid of myself because I would love you and love scares me and the thought of being in love scares me, the idea of being in love with you so much it’s hard not to just be taken away by your beauty, to not want to be selfish and claim you for myself, to be genuinely shaken to the core at the thought of being without you for too long…
This isn’t an apology, this is a confessional…where I can confess that every single vibration my phone gets me excited because it could be you, where I can confess that yes, I’m in love with the girl with moons in her eyes and constellations in her smile and that every time she tells me she loves me, there’s that small amount of hope in me that says maybe she loves you the way you love her, but I know it’s not so because she’s not ready for that…I don’t know what was trying to be accomplished by this but I guess I’m just hoping the God in me will be able to find you ..
