a simple type of love. poetry

intro: a one-minute love

i know that these hearts i drew in the sand will wash away. 

i know that these pebbles I wished on will disappear somewhere in the ocean's waves.

i wonder how long it'll be until i lose sight of my own heart, sitting somewhere in my chest.

but love doesn't go from one thing to the next like time does.

love lingers, holds, and hopes.

one minute distorts itself to the length of a heartbeat and suddenly the twenty-minute long bus ride—those minutes where i try to guess your name and piece together your class schedule—are no longer enough for me to sink into that feeling.

that feeling that i already find myself looking forward to when my eyes lose you in the crowd of students in the morning rush after the bus drops us off.

that feeling that I so-very-strongly miss on those late nights where i allow myself to get lost in the memory of your eyes for the long eternity of the night.

it feels like slipping into a dream, losing myself in a book...except i don't want to be found again. i want to search this beautifully surreal garden for a reason to stay. i'll plant seeds for the most beautiful flowers, and wait a day's lifetime for the sunset to fall and wash them over with its delicate and heavenly touch of gold. 

i'll sit there, with my palms facing above.

i'll wait for the stars to fall, and try my bestest to catch the brightest one of all. it'll fall, and i'll throw it back up in the sky, my wish gracing the night with its bright shine of hope.