you, pt1.

l. vincent van gogh ate yellow paint.

i think i know why.
he might've believed in reincarnation. sought for whoever'll be reincarnated as him to have more to them than the standard.
maybe that's a masterpiece on it's own;
to create what's beyond creation.
i'd tell you, you remind me of him, but you're your own. also, your birthdates don't match.
you are not his reincarnation, but you've captivated my soul more than his art ever could.
you are not an artist's artwork, rather you are the embodiment of art itself.

ll. you're not made to move past.
you're more like a landing point. (i want to exist within your surroundings.)
you're my escape route,
through you i find salvation.

lll. my mind isn't as chaotic as it usually is with you around.
not in the sense of; you cause temporary stillness", but in the sense of; "i want you around, even when i know how to manage emotions on my own."
my soul isn't dead.
my body doesn't feel heavy anymore.
nothing is as bad as it used to seem.

lV. you are forever beyond ideas and concepts.
you are much more than what words can start to give meaning to,
but i think i'll keep writing about you.
i want to mirror the image i have of you onto paper.
you don't forget those who've had an imprint on your heart.
you don't forget those who you've written about.
i don't want to forget you.
you're an ongoing memory.
one i can never necessarily feel nostalgic toward because you're always ahead of me.
i don't think i'd ever leave you behind. (in the past.) you're coming along with me.

V. i don't know how to talk about you, yet i don't know how to not talk about you.
you are so real.
i've never experienced real.
i never inked someone's name into sheets of paper with the knowledge that they hold more depth than my strung up words can ever decipher.
only yours, only yours.
your name.
you.