Broken strings & Pretty things

The world, seen through a young girl's eyes.

Archive for the month “November, 2014”

Bridge.

And the tears streaked my irises like the rain drops on the window pane as the train tracks led me far, far

away from you.

And all I wanted to do was to stop this train; stop this eternal ticking of time; stop this distance

and crawl back home into you.

And all I could taste was the smell of your skin and  all I could see was the beauty of your voice

yet all that surrounded was complete vacancy.

And all I want to do was to bridge this gap; to colour in this distance etched between us. All I want is to break these in-between moments between now and two weeks away. I’m desperate for your voice to be closer than a crackle down the wireless and your smell to be stronger than the linger of your old sweater. I want your hands to be more than muscle memory.
And I want, more than anything else, for your embrace to remain something unbroken.

But I will carry on chasing you, and I will build a bridge between these miles which stretch their arms between us. And I will embrace the time constrained conversations like the arms that will soon envelope my waist.

(image via http://songofthelark.files.wordpress.com)

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Goodbye.

As a side note before this post begins, I would like to apologise for the lack of posts in the past couple of months. I moved away to London for university at the very end of September, and settling in and finding time to write was extremely difficult. However, now my days are more structured, I can once again continue what I love to do most:

Below is a post that I began to write as I was beginning to leave:

Somehow time crept her way behind our backs and stole our nights away until we were left here, stood in a storm of old pictures and sepia-stained conversations. I move my lips: a vain attempt to try and delay this inevitable parting.

And I remember lying down by your side and wishing that this moment would extend itself far from the framework of this evening and into the deepest depths of the night. The notion of morning was far too painful, far too real for me to comprehend. So I kept my fingers entwined with yours and prayed that they could remain there.

Somewhere between the building blocks and textbooks and endless summer nights, we grew up. We resembled the people we once believed to be so big, and so far out of reach. We put on suits and we made decisions and got in cars which would take us far, far, apart. Somewhere along the way, between the teenage insecurities and unobtainable crushes, we became real people: people who live in their own houses and pay bills and take out mortgages.

And I know that so much of me wants to run back to summer nights in log cabins or days drenched in your arms or tea stained Sunday evenings. So much of me wants to continue lying here in the safe clasp of your hands. But stagnation is suffocation and no amount of clock watching will never stop those hands ticking away.

So I kiss your lips that one final time before the car door takes us miles away. I remember your smile and I remember the clumsy melody in your voice.
And I remember that this road will always lead me back to you. I remember that, however far these miles stretch themselves between us, you are never too far away. And most of all, I remember that although this will be tough, and there will be nights where it all seems to much, you are worth it.

You have, and always will be, worth it.

(image sourced via tumblr)

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