Room Full Of Art

You’re my room full of art.

Your love for me was exquisite.

It was as if standing in the middle of an art gallery,

trying to pinpoint the meanings behind it all,

but there was none.

The love you had for me was flawless.

It was so beautiful that with each and every word I tried to describe

all fumbled out my mouth and I tried to reach for them before they could

become nothing other than fragments in the air.

Your warmth to me was unnatural.

It was like trying to learn how to speak another foreign language,

only I tried to speak it fluently and you laughed at me and said I was too cute for trying.

The fingertips you grazed upon my skin felt like fire.

It drove me insane and I began to crave your touch day and night

and I was starting to become afraid to be thinking you were the only one who could touch me this way.

I sat outside with you holding a bottle of liquor between my fingertips while you held a lit cigarette in yours.

You were stuck between Limbo in your head again

So you told me everything and anything.

I had asked if I could write about you when we were no longer by each other's side.

You put the cigarette in between your teeth and asked me why.

I smiled and said

If i can’t tell you what i truly want to say, then all these feelings and emotions would go to waste.

You smiled back and gave me one last kiss.

And for the first time that night,

your touch was the sweetest.

And I began to write.

Author's Note

This was apart from my very first poetry book. I wrote this 3 years ago so it may be a little rough. If you have any other better ways to edit some grammar mistakes, please let me know :)