Whats On My Mind?

Inkwell: Killing Me Softly

love-supremequeen:

“I think it’s because you’re so strong.”

He spoke so steadily, with clear conviction and vivid descriptions. Straight up felt Iike he was feeling me, feeling my every emotion and heartache, like digging up old letters I wrote but never sent, like he could take it all away or bring me to my demise. He makes me wish my every sentence flowed as easily as my poetry. He spoke as if my voice contained solutions to unsolved mysteries. He unfolded the presence of my essence as it affected him and told me so plainly, in words anyone could understand. Never in my life have I felt Roberta Flack’s pain, because as beautiful as it was, he stayed killing me ever so gently. So directly indirect did his words affect me. But so readily did his imagery paint a portrait of me so perfectly. I guess I’m an open book, no mystery to me. Falling past a point of unguarded vulnerability, I accepted his truths as they came: out of no where. Shortly have I known you, already I do trust you, and daily do we speak. Full of unspoken, unmentioned sorrow did you bring forth that timing was horribly coincidental. Difficultly, I am unable and not trying to write straight to the point, as you are able to. And I can’t imagine that a simple conversation as that has so drastically affected my train of thought, my power of words, and conviction to speak to reflect my emotions exactly. I feel so shaken up and jumbled, but comforted in good company. I hope I don’t find that I’ve attained anything in disguise, I advise normally to stray away from this. But I trust you.

You call me a poet, but you make me feel like I can write prose just as eloquent and beautifully.

(via batheezy)