I Am But A Part Of You

You know me. I am the breath before the kiss; the lightning before the thunder; the stillness before the quake. I am the love in the warmth of your smile; the cool dampening tears raining from the storm of depression; the adrenaline in the face of fear in the alley where you are corned. You know me and yet you don’t because forever I will be but a moment, a fleeting thought, an emotion caught in the web of schemes. One day, perhaps, you will feel me behind the beat of your working muscle.

Do I know you? I feel you in the moment time slows to a standstill. The closing of the eyes and parted lips; the halted inhales and baited breaths; the dark canvas of the sky awaiting your brush strokes of golden light; the Earth bowing beneath your willful temperament. I smile because of you, laugh because of you, I sing because of you, and yet, you also are the tempests within my eyes, the haste in my bones with winds of flight in the face of terror, the wanting, the needing, the ink left bleeding. But I am lost because I cannot name you. Who are you? Who are you that keeps me here, who shines in the chaos of life? Who are you that has burned brighter, and shorter, than any other emotion? I wish to keep you in my lungs, oxygenating the very muscles that move me and sustain me. I wish to keep you in my heart - my blood hums eagerly a name that it cannot know. I know you, but what is your name? I am at a loss in this moment of brilliance, but even should it fade: I’ll keep you.

You know me as the shadow that flickers over you in the course of time which you slumber and dream of better tomorrows. I am the light that streams through the curtains in the night from the streetlamp. I am the breeze that rustles the hair from your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You know me, you feel me but forever I will be but the grey fog that clouds your vision with my endearments, my affections, my reflection of you. You know me, now all you must do is find me.

There’s a whisper on the wind, and it’s singing me softly to sleep: I hear you. The embrace of nighttime is cool and sweet - I feel you. There’s a ring of light upon my wall, chasing the darkness away - I see you. The wind quietly kisses away my tears, and the warmth is breathtaking - I am surrounded by you. You are overwhelming, and I fall willingly into your presence. Surround me, overcome me. I know you, but I do not know your name.

How am I to find you? How am I to revel in your quiet embrace if I am left with grey uncertainty? I feel you here and yet you are so far away from me - I cannot reach you, cannot hold you, cannot grasp for your gentle fingers. I am lost in this sea of comfort, and there is no Northern star to guide me home.

Become my Polaris: Give unto me your name, and I will cherish you forever.

You know me in the depths; the place where simplistic details such as a title of a name is not needed for I am not a person. I am the moment, the minute when the phone rings on the day where you believe all is lost. I am the time where you carelessly laugh at the nonsensical comedy of a low-budget movie. You know me as the rain that you dance in to feel the exhilarance of which life places upon the shoulders; daring us not to be each waking moment. You know me, but forever you won’t discover me.

You have naught a soul, or so you say, but here I am with words left unsaid, again. What am I to call you, if not a person? Who am I to learn, to feel, to love, without a soul belonging to it?

This is not enough for me just yet. I’m selfish, lest you forget. So if you could spare a fraction of time - hear the plea within this rhyme:
You are everything, it seems. The softness in my every dream. The hope found in constellations;  the security found in isolation. I am safe, I am free, but none of this matters to me if I cannot caress your face - if I cannot revel in your embrace.

Your words hold me like sunlight, and somehow I think things will be alright. There’s simplicity in this escapade, but all of this beauty will surely fade when I cannot name who now hold my pens - please, oh please, won’t you write to me again?

You are a mystery I yearn to discover - you hold all the wonder which I yearn to uncover.
You know me as the ideal companion; the person to listen and weep. I am the one sitting beside you in the long tirades of night as the television drones as background music to the soundtrack of our voices serenading the encroaching darkness. I am the one who places my hands on your shoulders while lending the strength of my own words to aid in the fragile peace we keep. I am the moment, the thing, the person. I am but an ideal idea in this life. I am there with you, I am the one beside you, I am the thing you hold close as you engage in the cycle of emotion that crosses you periodically. I am the love that stirs the wind, the vehemence that ignites the storms. I am the bear crushed to the chest, I am the flowers that are pressed. I am the sister and the friend, I am the everything-in-between. You saw through the mask of grey and sought to uncover the deepest of secrets: that I am but a mate to my pen