When You Love Someone Who Isn’t Yours To Love

Your footsteps shine on the ground, like there are stars on the soles of your feet, planting them like seeds in the soil, and when you walk by my house, my skin gets tingles

By

Everton Vila
Everton Vila

Your footsteps shine on the ground, like there are stars on the soles of your feet, planting them like seeds in the soil, and when you walk by my house, my skin gets tingles, because I know you’re calling out to me in your mind, and I stand by the window, I stand barefeet too, with my back a little crooked, with my head slanted a bit, eyes as wide they can go, eyebrows high on my forehead, nose between the curtains,

silence in the house, darkness in my body and the sky above us, and you’re the brightest human being of us all, your existence is blinding sometimes, you barge into my dreams unannounced and I wake up in love with you,

and when I see you, it doesn’t seem real, I wear sunglasses so you don’t see me blinded by your shine, and your skin still calls out to me, and I have to take a step back after every five minutes, it’s like I’m playing the role of a honeybee in a skit and you’re the flower, the flower that eats the bee when it sits on its leaf,

with teeth so sharp and a smell so sweet, death is a relief, death is a farewell gift in the guise of a kiss, the last thing I feel are your lips,

and I step back again, and you look into my eyes, and I’m so thankful for the sunglasses because there are tears in my eyes,

and I want to go back home, lie in the dark, and fall back into dreams where you and me are like we were before, and everything is as simple as it can be, and I don’t have to wear sunglasses just so you don’t see my tears because I’ve been so lonely,

you cannot believe the things I think about when I’m asleep, so I wake up and I pretend to be happy as I am in the morning but by night it’s all back to the same thing I am running from: you and your eyes,

and I can hear you so clear in my mind, day and night, all the time. Thought Catalog Logo Mark