Colleen Brown's Blog, page 140

inspired by the setting sun

inspired by the setting sun

I want to show youthe parts of myself that Ihave yet to even learnhow to love. I want youto be the...

I want to show you
the parts of myself that I
have yet to even learn
how to love. I want you
to be the first person
who sees me in a light
that I have not yet grown
familiar with seeing.
I want to experience
everything with you.
Every first, every last,
and every kind of forever.

Could you really imagineus being together and happy?Or it that just a thought that will keep you...

Could you really imagine

us being together and happy?

Or it that just a thought

that will keep you warm on

days of harsh and bitter

loneliness? Can you imagine

us being that way forever?

Or is it only when times get

tough and the feeling of

surrendering starts to suffocate

you? If that’s the case,

will you no longer see us

in the way you can now?

I will be here through

everything, and I just need

to make sure that you will

be here through it all too.

Forever doesn’t mean anythingif it doesn’t meanyou and me.

Forever doesn’t 
mean anything
if it doesn’t mean
you and me.

we always seem to lose ourselves

we always seem to lose ourselves

she was eating raspberries at the reservoir

she was eating raspberries at the reservoir

I fell in love with a girlwho fell beneath the weightof her own self-doubtand that’s why she...

I fell in love with a girl
who fell beneath the weight
of her own self-doubt
and that’s why she could
never give me the same love
that I once privileged her with.

I’m trying to find the wordsto tell you that I love youbut all I can think aboutare your lips...

I’m trying to find the words
to tell you that I love you
but all I can think about
are your lips against mine
and how much I want
forever to taste like that.

the sky is waitingfor you to come home.

the sky is waiting
for you to come home.

If you open my desk drawer you will find one letter from every week since you’ve left me.I...

If you open my desk drawer
you will find one letter from
every week since you’ve left me.
I don’t know why I keep writing
to you. There is a piece of me
that hopes you might be able
to feel my words against the parts
of your body that I have touched,
the parts that are polluted forever.

I don’t know why I haven’t
sent them to you yet. Every letter
is a confession, another fragment
of evidence to why it was
that I could not be strong enough
for the both of us. For why I could
never just give you the truth
of my emotions instead of hiding
them beneath layers of neglect.