Fantasy, the loving art of crippled images which show up to be illusions of everyday life. Starts as a thought and turns to be a tearjerking, soul killing movie. And yet everything is the same. You don't move, you don't say, you only live it and feel it.And slowly these emotion rays try to shine across your life. You start the fantasy, you turn on the light.
Suddenly the crimson pain vanishes away in his crystal blue eyes. The perfection of beauty standing right before you. This perfection reflects out from the home of his personality; from his heart and soul.
You can't help the feeling, you need it. It get's almost unberable to just look at his gentle presence. Suddenly you want his hands on your shoulders. The moment when he touches you gets into history. A shaking memory. Your skin is filled with blood, your breath stops for a second and you get in an euphoric state, just staying unmoved.
As he steps closer, your frozen blood seems to blow up your veins, runs like a hot flow in them. You want more, you get more. He comes really close, stays as human perfection, as angel of love right in front of you. The sparkling eyes stare deep into your windows of loneliness. His breath spreads peace all over you. His scent lovely touches your nose, the magic of the fragrance is misterious. You feel like on an other world. You are no longer yourself. You are lead by the warming way of your emotions. His voice...he whispers some lightly amazing words. As is flows in your ears it seems like a slow heavy metal song. It leads you, leads you closer, right in his caring and safe hug. that's such an amazing moment. You totally turn to be vulnerable, you loose control. He knows you, by just touching you feels how small, how innocent and loveless sweet girl you are. Without asking for permission, without talking, he uses the language of the heart. You just put your head on his shoulder, you can hear the clinging sound of your crashing crystal earring. That moment is purity, that moment is fragile. As you feel him close enough, you grab him with both your hands and just start raining. The warm, salty tears run down on your child scared face like diamonds.He feels the harmony between the two of you. darkness falls on the two of you when electricity wents out. The light of the Moon shines on your faces. The water bubble shines as crashing to his back from your face. You feel blessed and loved truly. Not wanted for sex, not taken advantage of. He gently moves your hand down from his back. Takes them in his soft palm. Your fingers cross his. You start to smile, your eyes show a deep path. He stares deep into them as he did before. Put on of your hands on his hip, then slowly moves his hand in your hair. Your soft, curly hair wawes to your shoulder.
In silent tension your waiting for his next miracle. This chain of patient and love is what heals your open sore: loneliness. He walks away a little. You feel desperate, like you'd loose him forever. He takes a CD. Turns on the song: Skillet: Whispers in the dark. You feel like loosing track. He comes back with secure small steps. Kisses you, easily, teaching and calm. You feel so nervous, the butterflies from your stomach want to fly out. You really fall into his safe arms. The gentle touches, the warm hugs, the melodic voice, the caring heart is almost unbelievable.
Whispers lead your moves. darkness still surrounds you, the music entertains your soul. He sees how sleepy you are. Takes you close to the sofa, without asking : you lay down, put your head on the puffy soft pillow. he kisses your head, touches your neck, starts to move his hands down on your pale skin. You slowly fall asleep, when you're almost asleep he turns off the laptop, puts on you the blancket and looks at his innocent sleeping angel. He can't get out of the magic of the view. Guards his angel's sleep all night making sure she's loved and safe.
Too bad you still wonder where he's emotions, actions and face vanished away. Reality took him from you, and now you feel like loosing part of your soul. You're again alone, as always.
Each daydream, each illusion, each scent, each melodic sound of your images kill you a little abd a little inside.
