The Brown Eyed Dreamer

'Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.' William Wordsworth


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Bridge

A walk home through the park
Where darkness swallows every stride,
Your hand in mine because you know I get afraid.
Took me to the bridge
To hold me tight and kiss me slowly,
When you stop to ask that lingering question.
‘Is it perfect for you too?’

Yes, the breeze whispers through branches,
Yes, the river murmurs underneath,
But still mouth forms no words.
Look straight into wide, inquisitive eyes,
Nod profusely, please let that be enough,
I swear, I swear more than anything,
It’s perfect for me too.


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A New Year

When people ask me, ‘Did you enjoy 2012?’, I have to think for a second before answering. Because in that moment, a thousand thoughts flurry through my mind’s eye in a kaleidoscope of colours and emotions.

I see family, friends, laughter, tears, shouting, cheering, love, loss, good points and bad points. I see late nights spent whispering, texting, over-analysing, crying and daydreaming with youthful hope. I see mornings spent running, eating, talking and dancing around my kitchen with my dog. I see a relationship that flourished then shrivelled and grew worn like a flower after Summer’s last sun. I see a friendship that became something more, then simply faded away. I see a summer that could’ve been the best and almost became the worst of my entire life. I see a fractured self-esteem only now learning how to mend itself. I see a dark time of trying to find answers to questions I didn’t have, a time where hands reached out and pulled me back up to a place of light and hope. I see faces, some happy, some sad, some just thoughtful. I see memories which I’ll cherish long after these years are over, memories that will still bring a shine to my eyes and a smile to my lips long after they happened. I see a new year, promising and full of childish hope and naïvety, just waiting for me to explore. I see it all, and then, coming out of my daze, I answer.
‘It’s been an interesting year,’ I reply, a small smile playing on my lips and the glint of a thousand memories and secrets yet untold reflecting in my curious eyes.


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I want to know you.

There’s so many things about you I want to know. I want to see the real you, and everything that moulds you and makes you, you. There’s so many questions I want to ask you.

I want to know what your favourite season is, whether you prefer stripping down or wrapping up. I want to know if you have hay fever, or if you get a bad cold every Christmas. I want to know your favourite day of the week. I want to know if you like Saturday nights or Sunday mornings best. I want to know how you wake up each morning. Do you sleep sprawled out across the covers or curled in? I want to know if you hum a tune as you put your bread in the toaster. Do you prefer butter or jam? I wonder if you dance about your kitchen, or do you read a book? I want to know the thoughts swirling through your mind as you stir your coffee. Do you have sugar in your coffee, milk? Or maybe you drink tea. These are the things I want to know.

I want to know whether you’re an outdoors person, or whether inside is your haven. I want to know if you like forest walks or beach expeditions. Are you adventurous? I want to know what music you like, or do you like a bit of everything? I want to see you listen to your favourite song, I want to know your favourite song. I want to know if you nod your head in time, or tap your fingers on the table. Do you sing along? Or do you just listen? I want to know if you read books on rainy days, if you like thrillers or fantasy novels better. I want to know if you have a cat that follows you about the house. I want to see you watch movies. I want to know if you cry at the sad parts, and I want to see you laugh uncontrollably. I want to know if you stay up all night or prefer to fall straight to sleep. Are you afraid of the dark? Are you brave? I want to know what you’re afraid of, or find out you have no fears at all.

I want to know what you think about the future, whether you’re planning for an impending zombie apocalypse or saving up for uni. I want to know where you want to travel, what you want to see, what you want to be. Do you want money, fame, love? Do you want 12 kids and a small cottage or a small studio above a shop? I want to see your face light up as you carefully explain your hopes and dreams. Are you afraid of the future, like me? I want to know if you’ll visit your family, if you have friends in exotic places. I want to know if you have big plans. I wonder if you have any plans at all. Maybe you prefer to go with the flow.

I want to know about your interests, your loves, your hates, your past, your present, your future. I have so many questions filling up my head with their clutter about you. I wonder if you think about any of these things at all. Maybe some day I’ll pluck up the courage to ask you.