If You Leave, She Will Haunt You For The Rest Of Your Life

Christopher Campbell

You can’t place the enchantment in her eyes.

She’s foreboding. But not here for you to experience or box into any one word. She is bigger than your perception and stronger than your need to savor her flame. She frightens you because her fragrance is the last star shining brightly in the morning sky. She tastes like forbidden fruit and sounds like every love song you’ve felt destroy your broken heart.

She isn’t merely the fire; she is the ignition. The fuel to the blaze.

She is the twisted knife you feel in your gut when you miss her. The intense rush of endorphins when syllabus leaks off her lips, turning mere words into the most beautiful prose.

She is the smell of rain on a summer day and a comfort you have never grasped. Wild and full of passion, she turns thunder into the beat of the drums in your favorite song.

Silly boy, you can’t contain her. She is your haunting. But don’t mistake her for a ghost, a mystical creature. She is as real as the shiver that showers your skin while watching her dance in the rain.

She is a pure beauty with a bolt of pain.

Lightning flashes in her eyes when she speaks of changing the world. Don’t let her enthusiasm intimidate you, it is the scars of past wounds that ignites her desire.

Don’t be afraid. She won’t consume you with her sorcery. Instead, she will be the warmth you’ve missed all along.

She wasn’t meant to be simple; she is a warrior with a shield made of poetry and peace. So fierce only the ones who believe she exists may kiss her heart.

Perhaps it is her need for raw soil on bare feet, and lust for the world, which causes you to think she is a spirit. A whisper in the wind.

She was born to be intoxicating, cut from a cloth made of suffering and heartache she weaved into the steel cage surrounding her heart. She chose you to be the cleave to cut through the cage.

You see her, but want to run. Yet, somehow you are caught in her spell.

You challenge her presence and push her away — she waits.

She permeates the image of your uncertainties. Unable to wash her away.

She is the brisk wind catching your cheek, while you profess she’s nothing but a ghost. A figment of every woman you’ve ever known.

You want to give into everything she is, but you’ve never seen anything like her. Perhaps you don’t understand how her presence assaulted every spice on your tongue.

I assure you she is worth savoring, long after you’ve swallowed her grace.

But you question this love. You tell yourself there is no such woman, and you have contrived perfection from the liquid desire flowing through your veins.

She is the blood inside your heart. The beat that thumps so hard you feel your rib cage crack and bruise.

And maybe it’s because you have never experienced a love like hers, it has you guarding your precious heart.

It is only you who can let go.

She isn’t perfection, she is broken and messy. She will falter. But inside her wounds and scars, you will find it is her heart that dances inside your soul.

She isn’t easy, she was placed before you to challenge everything you’ve ever understood.

And if you try and forget her.

She will haunt you.

Don’t let her be the glass heart you clasp in your hand, watching it shift into the sand, falling between your fingers.

She will be the whisper of smoke, from every fire.

The taste of sweet caramel from every candy apple put to your lips.

I beg you, dear boy, don’t let her go. Because there will come a time, when you see her in every burnt autumn leaf, every tethered messy sheet. Her fragrance left on your skin after every rainfall.

Perhaps if you plunge head first into the water and taste her salt, she is worth the wait.

She isn’t yours to wait for, she is the lone flower in the meadow, the shimmering blanket of a season’s first snow. A warrior not meant to conquer but indulge in.

She will challenge you, and terrify you. She will be more than you can handle and everything you were supposed to feel.

But it is you who needs to decide if she is worth detaching your fears.

You will have to see through the worry in her eyes, the bruises on her heart, and if you can’t do that, maybe she wasn’t yours to love in the first place.

She isn’t too much, she is just enough. She is everything you have ever needed — she is your courage, a part of your soul.

You know she is the madness in every tear she sheds. The beauty of every wildflower she touches to her nose. She is uncultivated, and not yours to tame.

However, you feel it in every cell in your body she will only allow you to subdue her heart. It scares you how she sees through the thickness of your force.

Let her in my dear, she won’t be your demise. Rather she will open the world to you, one you have never known.

For if you run, it will be her who haunts you. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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