In the early morning I look over and she is sleeping so soundly.
Her chest rises and falls to the rhythm of her heart beat.
I never knew what people meant when they said beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, but I know that when I look at you all I see is beauty.
I just look at the way your mouth forms a little smile so peaceful in your sleep.
The way you cuddle up in the warm blankets, holding on so tight as if you’re scared to never be warm again.
I just sit there and look at your perfect eyes and wish they would open for just a split second so that I can look at them one more time.
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder because not everyone thinks the same things are beautiful.
I think you are perfect.
I finally cuddle up to you to rest my eyes for a bit holding you tight so that I won’t lose you in the morning light.
I start to trace your scar as I think about every last memory we have ever shared.
I start to memorize every inch of that scar. That on the left of it is thicker then the right. That it ends about half an inch away from the end of your stomach.
I keep tracing it till that’s all I can see in my mind.
It keep tracing it hoping that you start to realize that it’s my favourite part about you.
I keep tracing it because that’s what I think beauty in the eye of the beholder defines that even tho you went through something scary and hard.
That scar represent beauty and the aspect of you and that beauty I see in you everyday.