To love with love

Love, I always left breadcrumbs hoping, you would find me someday… Some fine evening you would rescue me from my monotonous workplace and probably we would be driving through that ugly metropolitan traffic and yet my heart filled with so much of tranquillity and solace to be beside you,so effortlessly engrossed into our conversations, so safe, so aloof of every ambiguity, every expectation, every trial, that everyone and everything on earth, would be throwing up on me as always.
I miss you love. I miss being ordinarily stupid. I miss those random pinks and reds and blues. I miss that intensity greater than gravity to hold me this stupid life. I miss that faith, I miss that content.
Though I learned how to sleep totally fine without you, cuddling into my own candy floss, into that apparent affection, breathing in the world of unicorns and muse, consistently dreaming of you as I always wanted you to behave and conversely, never ever ready to be consciously deceived again.
Why do I need to sniff every next human to find you? Why do I rather hope I find you again, stronger and perfect as ever?
I am compelled to share my conscious with you, you’re inseparable. We compromised we won’t talk, and sometimes when we would be too reminiscent we’d have some silent candlelight conversations within, missing the lost, missing ourselves, bright, alive and tender.
I try to find you in forms nobody would ever expect, to find that lost complacence in those greens that wave to me every morning, in the wet of water that swallows my pain, in the darkness of the night that knows my merry pretense.
Would you ever come again to stay forever? When is your forever? I’m aging fast and I get pretty weak sometimes still holding on tough and you’ll be just watching me patiently from somewhere, from heavens above maybe, waiting for your goddamn right time to come and then I would be either too cold or too powerless to embrace you.


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