i want so much to capture the harsh stillness of silence that can only be measured in heartbeats. all you can hear are the crescendos of your breathing and your heart beating out of your chest. i long to hold the way the sunlight bends through the curtains and dances its way across the hardwood floor. if i could, i would keep that look you get in your eyes in my pocket, you know, the look that makes my stomach drop and my heart beat fast. i want to paint my walls with the beauty and distress broken glass causes when it shatters across the floor. each fragment catching a ray of light or an unfortunate shade of red as you carefully tiptoe across your room, regretting the fact that you remained shoeless amidst the inanimate battlefield your broken bottle has created.