Unshielded - A poem.
If I were to die, what would you remember me by? The way I looked? Or: The way I felt, and why? I do feel a lot. More than one should. And it is not as trivial as how I simply look. I feel it all. I feel it deep. The way that it is, it often makes me weep. I feel your warmth when you seem all cold. I feel the hesitation when you're all too bold. I feel your intentions when they are totally unclear. I feel the words that you never utter in fear. I feel the beauty of you in places you call ugly. I feel the dreams you dream that need to breathe free. I feel sorrows brimming, concealed in your smile. I feel your worries as you pace across the aisle. I feel the desires you hold behind the curtains of your mind. There is more in leaps and bounds. More of you in me, as you are mine. I feel more and more as time moves forward. I feel the songs of you...