(A piece of writing from a while ago to introduce potential readers to my style of writing)
If I could, I would call all the stars down to you, so you could see how bright they shine. You need to glimpse their beauty; the way they contrast with the dark. Though don’t despair now, for the darkness is beautiful too. Look into that darkness, my dear. You can’t see where it starts, or ends, what it hides or what it sees. The power is concealed, yet infinitely everywhere.
You are the darkness and though I hardly know your soul truly, I desperately want to fall into the black in an attempt to discover. You try to hide your stars by putting on a sunny exterior, but inside your passion burns so bright I can see it shining through the depths of your eyes.
Yet you don’t grasp onto your passion, but just let it float through your inner abyss. Do you even acknowledge you have worth? I pray you do, for it is only a higher power now that can convince you of how I care. I can’t give you the stars though, so make sure you look. It’s all I can do and I know it’s not enough, but still look.
For when I see your face, it gives me hope. I don’t know what for, or even how, but I can feel a stirring in my spirit, an urging almost, calling me to you.
Your soul is my home and maybe that’s the reason I’ve never felt complete. But it doesn’t matter. Whether you see it or not, you are a beauty and I am only me. I have nothing to give, nothing to offer and absolutely nothing you would want.
For you are the definition of love and I’m not even in the dictionary.