In his mind’s eye she was a girl in her teenage years, clad in a simple shirt and miniskirt that enveloped her in an aura of innocent sensuality that appealed to him for reasons he himself had not yet found.

In his daydreams she was ever by his side, never saying a word but ever smiling, ever laughing, ever embracing him with her arms and her cheer.

In his nightmares she was always there to pull him from the murky depths of despair, to heal his shattered mind and body, and to provide the courage and determination that he had been drained of but needed to confront his trials.

In his fantasies she was the saviour he always longed for, the answer to his loneliness, the cure to his anxiety and depression, the liberator of his pain, the answer to every worry and trouble that nested within him.

In his thoughts she was a selfish wish, an impossible dream, a mythical creature, an existence that seemed implausibly real when he closed his eyes yet undoubtedly fictitious when he opened them.

In his reality she was a girl in her teenage years, clad in a simple shirt and miniskirt that enveloped her in an aura of innocent sensuality that appealed to him for reasons he still had not found, and as he fell into slumber, he wrapped his arms around the girl that did and did not exist.

*

In his mind’s eye she was a girl in her teenage years,
clad in a simple shirt and miniskirt
that enveloped her in an aura
of innocent sensuality
that appealed to him
for reasons he himself had not yet found.

In his daydreams she was ever by his side,
never saying a word but ever smiling,
ever laughing,
ever embracing him
with her arms and her cheer.

In his nightmares she was always there
to pull him from the murky depths of despair,
to heal his shattered mind and body,
and to provide the courage and determination
that he had been drained of
but needed to confront his trials.

In his fantasies she was the saviour
whom he always longed for,
the answer to his loneliness,
the cure to his anxiety and depression,
the liberator of his pain,
the answer to every worry and trouble
that nested within him.

In his thoughts she was a selfish wish,
an impossible dream,
a mythical creature,
an existence that seemed implausibly real
when he closed his eyes
yet undoubtedly fictitious
when he opened them.

In his reality she was a girl in her teenage years,
clad in a simple shirt and miniskirt
that enveloped her in an aura
of innocent sensuality
that appealed to him for reasons
he still had not found,
and as he fell into slumber,
he wrapped his arms around the girl
that did and did not exist.

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Image source: We Heart It