une valse brillante
By: ShinigamiForever
B
O
T
H
O
F
U
S
and
that
is
what
I
find
to
be
so
real.
This time,
maybe you
will believe
me when I
tell you
that I love
you. Truth.
This time,
maybe you
won't push
away things
you don't
understand
nor try to.
I guess what I am aiming at, and
this is really the hard part to
formulate, is that both of us
have problems with holding on, or
it's just that we have been let
go of so many times the sheer idea
of having someone want is insane.
You and I are both lost causes,
except maybe you are more lost
than I ever was or will be,
because you refuse to try and
accept the fact that there is
something different about this
time, something strangely warm.
If it were just that, I could let it go, but the problem also escalates
that you do not trust me at all, yet expect me to let you protect me.
Well, get this through your head, I am going to stick here and not let
go, I will be an uncomfortable burr if you don't give way a little and
let me have some rume to do the same for you. If I were half as stubborn
as you are, both of us would probably be stuck in some meaningless
arguement about the price of dragon dung, or something equally stupid.
If you would just let go and relax sometimes, it would help a lot more,
get your dreams and hopes out in the open, where we can all be helpful,
where there is always warmth and a mad pianoist drumming away at Chopin
on the broken keys. Love is like that sometimes, beautiful only when you
are the artist itself. Love is orange and red like the painter's palet,
too obscure to be defined. We are the binding of two lives together,
two lives so strange yet so similar, two lives built on the same colors.
So one last time, succumb to foolishlessness and let me flit around you like a butterfly admist
a patch of flowers. You will not come any worse off of letting go sometimes, for we are not all
needing to be protected by everyone. I think that we are were meant to fall and live and fall
and come back up again, so let us think like the phoniex does. You and I, so enraptured by the
sound of the fading Chopin waltz, a litany and chorus of deep maroon and sheer crimson voices,
becuase passion is that color, and passion is just as part of a god in love as anything. But you
should not let yourself be governed by passion, even if it is the fleeing fingers of the lover.
Ice cream gentle and marshmellow soft, cushioning between layers of soft fluff, feathers and
other such warm comfortable things. That is what both of us need, a journey away from this merry-
go-round of a place and into an exotic mountainscape of life and love and feeling, where there is
reason for everything and everything with an ineffable reason. Where on the back of a soaring
bird we can take flight away with no baggage but those in our hearts, where we do not regret,
where in the end there is nothing to ask for but rest and the closing of eyelids. Let us go, we
can explore the world with flying colors. Let us go, we can cut ties and swim in heaven's water.
J
U
S
T
U
S
.
A/N: Sort of the opposite of odi et amo. If you can't guess, the title means a brilliant waltz. Reviews, anyone?
By: ShinigamiForever
B
O
T
H
O
F
U
S
and
that
is
what
I
find
to
be
so
real.
This time,
maybe you
will believe
me when I
tell you
that I love
you. Truth.
This time,
maybe you
won't push
away things
you don't
understand
nor try to.
I guess what I am aiming at, and
this is really the hard part to
formulate, is that both of us
have problems with holding on, or
it's just that we have been let
go of so many times the sheer idea
of having someone want is insane.
You and I are both lost causes,
except maybe you are more lost
than I ever was or will be,
because you refuse to try and
accept the fact that there is
something different about this
time, something strangely warm.
If it were just that, I could let it go, but the problem also escalates
that you do not trust me at all, yet expect me to let you protect me.
Well, get this through your head, I am going to stick here and not let
go, I will be an uncomfortable burr if you don't give way a little and
let me have some rume to do the same for you. If I were half as stubborn
as you are, both of us would probably be stuck in some meaningless
arguement about the price of dragon dung, or something equally stupid.
If you would just let go and relax sometimes, it would help a lot more,
get your dreams and hopes out in the open, where we can all be helpful,
where there is always warmth and a mad pianoist drumming away at Chopin
on the broken keys. Love is like that sometimes, beautiful only when you
are the artist itself. Love is orange and red like the painter's palet,
too obscure to be defined. We are the binding of two lives together,
two lives so strange yet so similar, two lives built on the same colors.
So one last time, succumb to foolishlessness and let me flit around you like a butterfly admist
a patch of flowers. You will not come any worse off of letting go sometimes, for we are not all
needing to be protected by everyone. I think that we are were meant to fall and live and fall
and come back up again, so let us think like the phoniex does. You and I, so enraptured by the
sound of the fading Chopin waltz, a litany and chorus of deep maroon and sheer crimson voices,
becuase passion is that color, and passion is just as part of a god in love as anything. But you
should not let yourself be governed by passion, even if it is the fleeing fingers of the lover.
Ice cream gentle and marshmellow soft, cushioning between layers of soft fluff, feathers and
other such warm comfortable things. That is what both of us need, a journey away from this merry-
go-round of a place and into an exotic mountainscape of life and love and feeling, where there is
reason for everything and everything with an ineffable reason. Where on the back of a soaring
bird we can take flight away with no baggage but those in our hearts, where we do not regret,
where in the end there is nothing to ask for but rest and the closing of eyelids. Let us go, we
can explore the world with flying colors. Let us go, we can cut ties and swim in heaven's water.
J
U
S
T
U
S
.
A/N: Sort of the opposite of odi et amo. If you can't guess, the title means a brilliant waltz. Reviews, anyone?