missmedearly

 I want to tell you that you are beautiful But I don't merely want these words heard I want them felt by you      Because you should feel as beautiful as you are It's not just your eyes that make you beautiful (though they seem to always invite my awe-struck gaze) And it's not just your hair (though the strokes of light in each strand illuminate everything around you) And it's not just your smile (though it reminds me to enjoy life instead of focusing on the struggles it brings) And it's not just your voice (which will always, always sweep me away from my sorrows and draw me closer to an unexplainable happiness) Or even

I didn't really like it when she cried. I just loved the way it made her look. Her eyes were always vibrant. But, God—God, when she cried…they sparkled. Her cheeks would turn that perfect plum, that dangerous shade of blue-crimson. She would push her hair out of her face: in futility. It would fall back, frazzled, crazed. Beautiful. I would watch her, in her less-than-silent agony, My eyes: absorbed, ablaze. Like a hawk. Like a vulture. She was so real. So vulnerable, the conceptual putty in my hands. Passionate, with her lips pushed lightly forward. Almost in a kiss… Part of me wanted to be that gleam at the tip of her eyel