and those words told stories

…I wonder how much of my personality can be drawn back to the fact that one of my favorite picture books was “Pish Posh Said Hieronymus Bosch”.

Like, I feel that explains a bit about who I am as a person today.

She loved him
Not for the way he looked
Although his eyes were fragile
Like the glassy ocean reflecting a starry sky
Like they would shatter if she stared into them too long
She loved him
Certainly not for his reputation or his past
Although only half of the story was told in those hideously superficial words
She loved him
In the way that her heart stopped when he said her name
And beat like a drum in time with his laughter
That echoed off the walls of her mind
Like a song she couldn’t get out of her head
But she didn’t mind singing over
And over
And over
She loved him
In the way that every time he spoke
It seemed he was whispering in her ear
Hanging onto each word and collecting them like fireflies in a jar
Like he was speaking only to her
She loved him
In the way that his smile seemed to draw open the curtains in every room and send endless rays of light tumbling in
She loved him
In a way that filled her whole mind
Her whole heart
Her whole being
Until her whole soul overflowed with him
Until everywhere she walked she left a trail of rose petals
Until the sun exploded
And everywhere in her world
There was nothing but light
—  Random Things I Write #1