Her cheeks blushed a rosey pink when she reads my words. My words could do that to the effortless beauty in front of me. I told myself I would never get her, that she would be disappointed for who I truly was.
But she was like the shining stars in the midnight sky. They were always there to look at-to gaze at, but I would never reach them.
She was the plain kind of beautiful, nothing extravegant to any other. But if you looked past her mop of curls and her half-hearted smiles, you'd find a girl with freckles sprinkled till the tip of her button nose, dimples playing behind each cheek, and eyes that resembled the color of mud. Hell, I never thought mud would ever be appealing, but with her; everything started to become beautiful.
Because with everything I would look at, I saw her.
My dear Cassidy,
~you are a daisy
in a garden full of thorny roses
your petals, w i l t e d
but remain a pure, untainted white
though you are never picked
it is best to leave the things you l o v e alone to grow
never to be picked, to prevent disappointement,
to prevent d e a t h.
~i am the gardener
in the beauty of your presence
even though I would love
to keep you as my own
that flower is best left away from my fingertips.
-A
YOU ARE READING
Prince Behind the Pages
Short StoryI wanted to know his name, his face, his voice--everything I knew about him was through the words written down on that little black book. But I wanted to know more; I wanted to know him. ~thank you so much for reading, voting, and commenting. the su...
