She belongs in the clouds, she told me once and I never forgot,
She is only at home when on airplanes,
High up in the sky,
Only content when clouds are in view,
When she’s the same height as them,
Sitting in a cramped space, looking out of a small window,
Looking down on the world, eye level with a cloud,
A free spirit’s work is never done,
And she is gone again,
To seek is to be free,
She is free only when she is not here,
She is caged, contained and trapped by this sad, empty town,
Dragging her small, bare feet up and down the cold pavement,
She knows in her heart they were not made to walk this road,
She finds herself looking up at the not so blue sky,
Wishing on airplanes as they make white lines in the sky,
So near, yet so far,
Our souls are separate now,
Not just by miles, for souls are always together,
I am a lost soul, she is a free soul,
Perhaps I was blinded when the light hit her eyes,
Like when sunlight hits the ocean and diamonds appear on the waves,
It’s not real, you can see it with the widest eyes, but there’s no truth,
Sight deceives you,
It was just wishful thinking,
If love is blind, are souls blind?
She is somewhere far away,
I hope somewhere where the clouds are near to her,
Or where the sun is shining on her, enhancing her, enchanting her soul,
Bringing her back to life,
I hope she is dancing freely and gracefully, and her toes are sinking into
millions of tiny grains of warm sand,
She is everywhere, all at once,
She is the airplane making too much noise when you just want peace,
She is the line in the sky you compare to a silver lining because you didn't see the plane,
She is every blue sky,
And every ray of sun,
At her best, she is summer at it’s very peak,
When everyone’s happy and nothing is wrong,
I have not lost her,
I am lost and she is free,
And that’s the way it was always meant to be.
- “She Is (part II) // F. H
She is the reason I believe in souls. Fate. The reason I believe miles are numbers measured on scales that are irrelevant.
She is a free spirit, bathing in a waterfall the same colour as her eyes.
The shadow I see in the sunset.
Every sweet, warm smile I receive from strangers on the street.
The kind of smile that sets the swarm of butterflies off towards my stomach where they dance around until the smile has left my mind.
It’s her. She is everywhere.
She is the light in the morning breaking through the curtain and the stars in the night sky, twinkling.
She is every dream I wish I hadn’t woken up from. But still in a way, glad to be awake, glad to smiling upon waking from a dream that has formed a brand new memory.
She is every sweet dream.
It’s her. She is everything.
She was born for the wild. For adventures. To seek. To be free.
You can’t restrict her. You can’t contain her.
The world is too small and society is too cruel.
But she’ll leave her footprints on this Earth and you’ll remember her, just not in the same way as me.
You’ll see the footprints on the ground.
I’ll feel the footprints on my heart. In my memory.
The one with the freckles framing her face, making her eyes prominent.
The eyes that tell a thousand different stories that are only told in whispers.
The one with the smile that ignites the fire in my heart.
That’s her. She is the one.
She is the rain bouncing off the pavement, tapping on my window at night.
The cold winter that I spend in front of the fire. She is the fire.
She is 335 miles away. But she’s never been closer.
She is everything. She is everywhere.
- “She is” // F. H.
xo
