He has dark hair, whether it be brown or black, on which the light scatters across each strand that fell before his eyes, downcast. The clear and deep blue or somber greys are tinted with hints of green or hazel from each new angle; a sort of sad glint tailing each upward glance. He is tall and slender, a bit awkward in his own build, yet carries it as he has each day of his life. His hands are worn, his fingers are long and delicate as if he were made to be an artist-- would it be with music, images, or word. His mind is brilliant, yet at the same time dark and not completely cultured. It gives him room to grow and to discover, to smile at things foreign to him. And, oh, that smile. An electrifying combination between sincerity and innocence. The most precious thing to see is that smile that makes you want to protect it with your very being; touched. This is him.

If you know this guy, send him my way. x)

--edit: I found him!---

-

I couldn’t find you last night for quite some time
Wishing to tell you everything running through my mind.
We would’ve drove down over the bridge and towards the sea,
parking the sad car in between twenty-fourth and fifth.

I want to write a song about our love, but there is none.
I want to write a song about our love, but there is none.

Still I continue driving the lonely road,
with thoughts running over and humming a sad forgotten song.
Wasting all our time
that you’re spending with someone else.
I better go home now;
this car simply won’t go far enough.

I want to write a song about our love, but there is none.
I want to write a song about our love, but there is none.

Satiate my mind and calm my nerves to look and find
words that aren’t enough and never show a single piece,
a single piece of my mind;
of my mind.

I want to write a song about our love, but there is none.

The Working Title - There Is None