I am tired of being taken for granted. If only I could get back a fraction of what I give. But my efforts go unrecognized, and my soul keeps wishing to be noticed, to be valued; to be understood.
Catalog
Lang Leav
I don’t know how you are so familiar to me—or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before—in another time, a…
It was a question I had worn on my lips for days—like a loose thread on my favorite sweater I couldn't resist pulling—despite knowing it could all unravel around me. "Do you love me?" I ask. In your hesitation I found my answer.
In her eyes, the sadness sings —of one who was destined for better things.
She lends her pen to thoughts of him that flow from it in her solitary. For she is his poet and he is her poetry.
You were you, and I was I; we were two before our time. I was yours before I knew, and you have always been mine too.
The briefest moment shared with you— the longest on my mind.
One day you meet someone and for some inexplicable reason, you feel more connected to this stranger than anyone else— closer to them than your closest family.
Like time suspended, a wound unmended-- you and I. We had no ending, no said goodbye; For all my life, I'll wonder why.
In a sea of strangers, you've longed to know me. Your life spent sailing to my shores.
There is a love I reminisce. like a seed I’ve never sown of lips that I am yet to kiss, and eyes not met my own. hands that wrap around my wrists. and arms that feel like home. I wonder how it is I miss, these things I’ve never known.
It was all hands and lips and hearts in tandem. There was motion in our bodies and emotion in our discourse. We were a symphony of melody and melancholy. When you find peace in another’s presence, there is no mistaken.
No matter what happens next, I will always be glad to know there is someone like you in the world.
What was it like to love him? Asked Gratitude. It was like being exhumed, I answered, and brought to life in a flash of brilliance. What was it like to be loved in return? Asked Joy. It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness, I replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence. What was it…
Then there is the boy you can never stop thinking about. Whenever you see his name, it trips you up. Even if it's one that belongs to many others, even if he belongs to someone else. You know he is a symbol of your weakness, your Kryptonite. How he rushes in like wildfire and burns through…