watercolor thoughts [completed]

L | him (ii)

A/N: gotta wrap up the "him" series of poems, so here's the second part! and if you don't like love or affection poems, the next poem will have dark(-ish, depending on what you see as dark) theme that isn't part of the "him" series.

"him" may or may not be a real person.

oh! this was inspired by ggsnap1290, and i'm telling you, go check out her poetry. it's amazing and she has this certain style that connects to you a lot. you can really feel the emotion. <3 love you

_

UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS A HEALING PROCESS. UNDERSTAND THAT THESE POEMS ARE MY REVIVAL. UNDERSTAND THAT THESE POEMS HAVE LAID OUT MY SOUL TO YOU, IN YOUR HANDS. UNDERSTAND THAT ONE DAY MY HEART CRYING AND HURTING SPOKE TO ME AND I ASKED HOW I COULD HELP AND IT SCREAMED OUT TO WRITE THIS SERIES. THIS IS THE REMEDY. MY MEDICINE. MY REBIRTH.

THIS IS THE HURTING, THE LOVING, THE HEALING. NOTHING MORE. AND. NOTHING LESS.

THIS IS WHAT THE "HIM" SERIES ARE ABOUT. THIS IS THE REAL LIFE PROCESS OF REGAINING YOURSELF. HERE ARE THE STAGES OF UNREQUITED LOVE. HERE ARE THE STAGES OF GROWTH. THIS IS ME HEALING, THIS IS ME LEARNING, THIS IS ME AND THIS IS MY FREEDOM, THIS IS THE CLEANING, THIS IS THE HEALING.

愈. läka. شفاء. चिकित्सा. исцелять.

T H E H I M S E R I E S PT. 2

him (ii)

things (that i wish that didn't) make me think of you:

the library.

every morning i go in there and i expect to see you leaning against the checkout table, chatting with the librarian, back sloped in a way that can only be found with your bones. every morning i expect you in there but i know now that the library is no longer your place. you have left it and i'm left here watching our past selves talk. i can still see our ghosts there. i remember sitting on the highest stack of textbooks and you languidly sitting there on top of a library book cart. i remember just being silly and waving at you crazily even though we were five feet apart and you confusedly waved back.

(i know. i know. you're much too mature to me. i get it. i'm just a silly girl who's never gone through the things you've gone through. and i'll never know the tragedies and burdens you've carried and still carry on your back. because you'll never tell me. (i'm a girl who loves stories. and some stories i'll never be able to read. you're one of them.) the wearing of three years hangs of you like baggy clothing. sometimes, these unexperienced eyes notice things people will never see. i can see the wear and tear of three years, the frayed ends of your stitches. these are things only i can notice. because i think i understand.)

i can still see you flipping water bottles on that table, counting out loud each number. excitement laced your voice then, some happiness that you don't seem to delve in for very long. be young for once, dei enim donum est. because your youth will fade in an instant. you are swindling the prime of your life away.

(but to think that at such a ripe young age, i thought i had met the best caliber of men. to think that you at such a ripe young age, you have already aged too much inside.

i guess, in parallel worlds, we are the same.)

i can still see you sitting, legs swinging slightly, eyes pierced forward for visitors. i remember your determined stride as you walked through the door, hands pulling that endearingly adorable section of hair out of your face. i see you, back turned toward me, working diligently. i remember you reprimanded me, half-jokingly, for forgetting that algebra one students didn't get textbooks, or laughing at a way i pronounced someone's name, or in that hidden playful manner to yell louder. i remember you fixing the book stacks because one book title was upside down and it just bothered you too much. i remember playing snake on the computer, watching you, eyebrows creased and eyes concentrated, to beat your high score. i remember you rolling your eyes when i only went to ask you if an english two book existed. i remember you criticizing my stamps for being slightly crooked. i remember when playfulness seized your limbs for a quick instant. i remember that expression of mingled shock and question crossed your face. i remember your most insignificant moments. (goddammit, subconscious.) i remember you.

i remember a lot of things you don't remember.

(and there's also a lot that's starting to fade. that's what i suppose is what the healing part is about. )

hazel eyes.

let me tell you that I never knew piercing brown eyes existed until i saw you.

cars.

i always look into the windows of cars passing by. i always expect to see your face, eyes with that flame behind them, always facing forward, pressing ahead. i never catch you. maybe that's because you're too far ahead of me. there are miles and separate worlds and a whole mindset and memory between us. and you'll leave me behind.

and you'll never realize i was the girl you left behind.

stories.

you should be honored. i have immortalized you. you have become a story, a fantasy, forever remembered on these pages.

you will never know.

tennis.

need i explain?

blue backpacks.

you chose the right color. it's the color of your soul.

brown hair with tones of cinnamon and reddish quality. brown hair. blond hair. haircuts that look similar to yours. hair tones that look similar to yours.

i can't put a finger down on the color of your hair. it reminds me of the phoenix, the bird of rebirth. one day i my hands will grow feathers and my arms will twist into wings and i will arise out of the wreckage my poor heart made and leave you behind in the past. (but unfortunately, that is where i don't want you to remain.)

something beautiful.

i'm a wreck. all i want is to share it with you. i just want you to realize that i'm a girl that's not just a joke, a girl that's more than a naïve, childish, crazy mess, a girl that's more than a wallflower on the background. all i want, more than anything, is to be your friend. to share the snapshots of life with you and have you realize that inside you there is a story for some reason i find so intriguing.

crowds. cameras. books. anything I see holds a piece of you in some way. i'm going crazy.

everything.

i'm a wreck.

- still hurting, still healing