What Crime Was Committed When I Stared At Your Eyes; Pondered On The Depth Concealed Within Their Blackness?

What crime was committed when I stared at your eyes; pondered on the depth concealed within their blackness? Was me locking gazes with you appeared felonious? Have you been offended by the manner I looked? Like I was probing, searching for something. Perhaps a soul I've been wanting to catch. A treasure buried beneath your retinas. Even behind bushy brows, the truth of my guilt can easily be proved. The intent to gain can suffice through my overt acts. Beyond reasonable doubt.

And I will willingly take the stand so I can spill my truth to the world. How I actually stole glances of you for a long time. Near or far, I always managed to look; has always found a way despite unfavorable circumstances. For I seem to gravitate towards you like you're a tenacious force drawing me closer.

No, I won't pay a counsel to turn the table in my favor. I will talk, willingly. Take the chance and tell my truth to the aloof jury. I won't prepare any defense nor hold my silence. I will raise my hand in total surrender and confess the truth, nothing but the truth to the hushed court.

I did steal glances of you in several instances. Deliberately. And in one occassion, I managed to stare at you deeply while holding my breath. As though it's a matter of life and death. Now that you have caught me, what crime was committed, if any? Don't worry, I won't try to contest whatever it is that you charge me. But should you allege theft against me, I will try to raise this rebuttal as lovingly as possible: Is it still stealing when it's already stolen?

I stated it outrightly. I stole glances of you baby before I finally managed to get closer and aimed for your heart. And the best part is that you just sat there and let me.

-Stole your heart but you sat there and let me

Katie, 19:00

Someday, you will fall in love. And it's not going to be the feeling you've grown accustomed to. Those years filled with wild butterflies? Bouquet of roses? Spark in the eyes? All sweet nothings that send you to cloud nine? No, it's not going to be that. Your next love story will be a mess. A total mess. As if a tornado has passed and disarranged everything in your life. And you will begin to question all that you ever believed in.  You will begin to weigh what's worth your time and what's not. But you will be strong. This kind of love will make you strong. It will cause you to scream at the top of your lungs in the middle of the night when you have nothing left to give. It will make you doubt every promise that has ever said in the name of passion or commitment. You will uncover lies under beautiful flashes of skin and smiling faces that look like a dream. It will make you cringe against a gust of wind coming from an open window. It will make you bleed. But it won't leave you weak. It will make you strong. And you will appreciate it more than anything in this world. The moment this kind of love finds its way to your heart, you will be the bravest woman ever lived. All because you will be able to handle it.

-Not your usual love,

Katie, 18:00

If all the songs you asked me to listen to were drugs, then I may already be suffering from addiction. Or an overdose. I play them everyday and still can't get enough. Irrevocably, I am drawn closer, not to the melody or the lyrics,but to the soul you're allowing me to discover through them. It's just too beautiful for my mortal eyes to behold.

-All the songs,

Katie, 12:40

My re-awakening wasn't easy. For I was required to see again things I already unsaw, learn knowledge I already unlearned, know people I already unknew. But when my eyes caught a glimpse of you, a silhoutte moving against the darkness, faith came rushing into my nerves. The gust of wind echoed songs I've already forgotten. But the tone, the lyrics, your eyes, your voice exude such familiarity I could not simply ignore.

//

You look like the muse I spent my life trying to immortalize. You smell like sea breeze. Your laugh sounds like crashing waves that rhyme perfectly with my morning rambles. Above all, you feel like the home my heart would always run to for warmth and a drizzle of love when everything around me is bereft of it.

-Feels like home,

Katie, 17:30

All the love in the world, I will give my life to catch and store it in a box, wrap it with my austere yearnings and offer it to you so you can have something to hold and to keep after I am gone. I pray that the overwhelming warmth in my chest will engulf you, so you won't feel cold during the winter. I want you to be protected from the chilled wind. I want you to be safe from the night.

The mirth you exuded that magical moment when we drank our fill of wine like the world's going to end right there, the sound of our laughter roaring over the noise of the dazed crowd, your smile that outshined the Milky Way, the "you" who captured my soul in a glance, encompass all the memories I want to remember for the rest of my days. You. Baby, just you. I want to carry you like a sacred creed. I want to kiss you hard, cling to your lips like they're the only ones that could keep my pieces intact. I want to bury you in my skin, hide you in my bones so we won't be separated. But I can't get close enough it seems. So I just hold your stare as best as I can to assure myself that you're real. That we're real. Though the beauty of your soul makes everything appear surreal. Like everything is a dream and I don't want to wake up, scared to watch you disappear into thin air right in front of me. I can't lose you just like that. Not now when I finally decided to stop running from love.

All the memories,

(Cheers to the "you" that I got)

Katie, 23: 35

It's silly.

But it feels like we only wake up so we won't break the hearts of the ones we love.

Katie, 18:00