An artist's feelings.

As the pencil flows slowly across the white, plain surface, my teal, small eyes wonder through the smooth, soft grey lines registered in the flawless piece of paper.
I unconsciously think about you; your unique, exotic, handsome features and your bewitching, golden, deep eyes that so many times roamed the depths of my soul, and yet, never found the essence of my being.
As an ocean of mixed, raw feelings surface from the darkness in which they were securely kept under control , my hands intensify the lines on the sketch; darker strokes with anger, and softer, lighter ones as the feelings I've recognized as love come into light.
I shade the edges with my fingers, blurring the lines as my own eyes grow watery; filled to the brim with forbidden, salty, hot tears.
I watch as my hands conduct the small pencil into an uncoreographied dance, with unique and determined moves, adding detail and ornamenting the picture I've created.
I miss you by my side instructing me, advising and comforting me with your wise, silent words. I miss your company keeping me warm at night, your smile melting my heart, your voice, soft and hoarse talking to me.
Looking up, and silently placing the pencil down I finally notice the image I've created: your hypnotizing, big, golden orbs flooded with love and your slender, luscious lips twisted into an affectionate smile. Your long, black hair dancing with the wind as the soft, twilight light hilight your beautiful, unique features. Your hand, big, strong and secure extended, inviting me to follow you, to vanish into the cold, melancholic dark hours to live the love we never did.