I've met my one.
I've met the one who can melt my heart just by looking at me. I know the little things are in everyone, but he is the only one I see them in. I see them when he looks at me under the sunlight and his eyes get a little brighter and there's a little shimmer in the top left corner of his right eye. Or how when I stare long enough his freckles dance along the cracks and crevices of his skin. Or how when he holds me, it feels surreal. It's not something you can always feel, though. His touch is real. It's alive. It's beating against me in the best way one could imagine. His heart is truly unique. He is fiery and hot, looming with passion and vigor. But is also like ice. Touch on the surface, but gentle underneath. His kisses are like feathers, brushing along my skin. His words string a long my favorite melody, a symphony only he knows. People spend their lives chasing who they deem "the one" when in reality, you do not find your one, your one finds you.
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When a Shattered Heart Speaks
PoetryA broken heart is mendable with the correct care. But a shattered heart? Oh a shattered heart will never be truly fixed no matter what you do for it. A shattered heart cannot reflect anything, but the sound of it breaking tells you everything.
