You Sans Promises

...
I spotted Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov lying on the floor covered by the messy pile of clothes we left behind. You loved to hear me saying 'Really?' and begged me to repeat it endlessly, but each time I gave you my infamous look of menace in return, which still caused your lips to curl up in a smirk. I traced the tattooes marking your skin and whispered to myself ''ah yes, you are an artist afterall...''. It made you laugh and meet your lips with my jawline, and then again. You asked if I would want to see you some other time and I responded with kisses. You did not seem to mind my methods of distraction and I did not manage to say a word. I did not tell you that I liked how you played the songs you wrote, and you did not need my approval. I laughed when you said the greatest band was The Smiths, but you did not have the time to find out why. We exchanged numbers and instantly regretted it. And as you were dozily tying the laces of your black converses you could not conceal your surprise that Catch 22 was one of my favourite books. And I could not, but not smile at the jittery electricity coming through my body when you said you read Salinger and Bukowski. I wondered what was your reason for waking up every morning, just because this is always what I ask random blue-eyed guitarists. You replied with your music and for a second I felt slightly envious.
''Will I see you again?'' you brought the question once more with this dreamy expression of yours, but we both knew what the answer would be.
...Because some things were meant to remain ephemeral, but we were too high on oxytocin to accept that back then.

Snapshots

Give me a cause, give me a reason and I am yours. But you can't, can you? Because there are no more left.

When the sun rises and when the sun sets, when you betted that I would be fine. When all I wanted was the peculiar sense of happiness and all I want now is a cause. Another thing to fight for, because otherwise what's the point in living anyway?

The begining of summer has always been sudden to me. Everytime is different, but the feeling you get is unmistaken and very same.
Life becomes beautiful.
I know that you would be laughing at me now and I would smile. Just like we used to do before, when all we had was each other and our broken souls. I don't know about yours anymore, but mine still is. But do you know what summer beginings remind me of most? My naive dreams soaked by all those ideals and morals that I never stop being assembled with. I miss the person I was back then when I was seventeen. She was reckless and wise, but unbelievably stupid. She was the person I would probably never ever be again. Don't tell me you don't miss her. Open skies and endless fields, scent of dry grass and upcoming storm. Free and careless. Full of hopes and less emptiness. You could see the sadness in her eyes back then too, but it was concealed with the foolishness of childhood, the same one that is now underneath all those built defense walls and layers.
I need to feel the saltiness of the sea water on my skin again. I need to recapture all those long gone sunsets that I missed whilst I was busy wasting time.
Need to.
Want to.
Feel to.