That one girl

Sparkling like glitter mixed in with the magic a rainbow in a puddle of oil holds on a childs attention. Floating as though gravity its self has lost its mind or given up all hope of fight.

A single moment passes as I watch as she walks past, and I find it hard not to stare. I imagine in my mind I've already gotten off the train, and that for no reason can I not just shout out that I think she is, one of thee most beautiful women I have seen.

I knew before I even saw her that she was there, and even once I saw her, all I could see was her hair. But I knew, oh yes, I could see through those walls, and if only I had better judgment of my own abilities, I'd of been smart to jump off the train then.

I could still see her smiling even after we'd passed, and though I knew I could get off and catch a train back, I knew just as well she wouldn't still be there smiling. I knew I had just lost my chance.

So as I watched her hair bobble with those cute little pig tails in the back, that wonderful orange hair that shine so beautiful. I thought about how I'd find this girl again, and what I might say when I did.

Bobbling so delicately but not with the wind, I swear I saw magic, like sparkles, take flight where she'd been. I know its not love this feeling be named, but perhaps its the feeling that still feels the same.

The Storm

Tearing holes in me, shredding my insides like paper.
This tornado hits close to home,
I watch as those around me run for cover,
while I stand my ground.

I know this fight I can not win,
but running would not save me either.
As blackness quickly sweeps down the street,
I look onward pretending to pay it no attention.

For it is not the tornado that terrifies me,
Nor is it the death and destruction that will follow it's strike.
My fear lies with what has true importance,
as I stare at her, frozen with fear.

It is only her life I will try to save,
and you might think that a selfish thought.
But no one else is near me anyways,
not that I'd try to save them either way.

I reach out gently,
extending my hand carefully,
nodding for her to take it.
Waiting for what seems like a lifetime,
while she stands there,
fear stricken and hazy eyed.

When at last I gain her attention,
she waits only a heartbeat before taking my hand.
It is clear to me that she does not understand,
having never witnessed anything this horrifying,
living the sheltered life, as I once had.

I turn to lead her forward,
towards the storm we must go.
To run will lead to certain death,
to face will take us past the test.

She jerks her hand away in panic,
clearly having believed we were headed away from the storm.
Before she turns to run I cause her to pause for a moment,
as I ask her if she trusts me,
whispering it almost inaudibly.

She screams at me in reply,
with complete horror spelled out across her face.
That she does not trust me,
and turns almost instinctively to run.

I watch as she is sucked up in the spin of the storm,
and I feel as though I've been robbed.
A great sadness overcomes me,
as I try not to think of what came of her.

Thoughts

Overcome with sadness, this remembrance of the past. Thoughts of what used to be echo through my head causing chills, why I can't quite comprehend. Resounding thoughts of recent events turn quietly in my head, slowly driving me mad. What is it that brings me back to this subject? It could be the love, or perhaps it is my curiosity. Perhaps I would move on but am unable to do so due to a lacking of further goals. Do I hide a secret aggression for the dismissal of my feelings? If so, combined with my love could explain some of my thoughts. However, I don't typically harvest aggression for such senile acts.

It would happen to be the case however, that immature acts and pain are what make our lives interesting. Perhaps her act of avoiding me has subconsciously made her all that more desirable.