I want to be . . .

I don’t want to be

The name in your blocked list , and neither do I want to be a forgotten contact.

I don’t want to be a phase in your life, or your flavor of the month. I don’t want to be forgotten smudge of a handprint on your window pane.

I want to be

Dried lavenders you keep between the page of an old romatic classic, and I want to be the beautiful handwritten letters that you keep under your pillow, holding them close to your heart at night. I want to be the pearls from a broken necklace you’ve been treasuring for age, your wristwatch that you always wear on your left hand.

I want to be

Sweatshirt that carries your fragrance and be an old blanket that keep you warm on a cold winter night. I want to be reason behind your smiles, and I want to be your muse, be someone who you think about on your lonely night.

I want to be the girl in your story, which you will very fondly tell your children before their bedtime, under the starry night sky, a light smile playing on your lips while doing so.

(Artwork By unknow)