Fugitives and refugees

How can I write so passionately about a memory?

Spin the words around my fingers; weave them into something that paints a pretty picture..I can think of a million ways to describe the sound of his laughter. The pitch perfect way it would bring a smile to my face, I could give you a million adjectives to describe the way the corners of his lips would turn in a way that would melt me, or how his eyes change color like mine..mood eyes. Both of our eyes have been green for a while. jealousy I whisper.

And I could write a million lines about how the other boys broke my heart, how I wanted them desperately to see me but they never could. Ode to the boi’s that looked right though me.

I am never sure what to do when one does see me, catches me off guard. In the right light, I wonder what I look like, because it’s all about key back and fill..Any thing is beautiful in a 3.0 lightning scenario.

Fugitives and refugees we’re all homeless trying to find a way. I can’t remember the way, and I always have the count down running in my head

i will stand arms outstretched, pretend i’m free to roam

Pulling him close to center, I know what it was that I wasn’t suppose to miss, and now I sorta wish I missed it.

Sometimes I wish I could screen capture moments of my life. I want to freeze it, so I can forget the hot and the cold and the back and forth. Forever focusing on the good. The light only shines on things worth seeing.

we’ll have problems, then we’ll have bigger ones.

*Angel*