Corrupt

Is corrupt his fingers plunging into me?

Is corrupt his facial hair grazing my thighs?

Is corrupt his loving gaze at a sixteen year old?

Is corrupt his fingers laced into mine?

Or is corrupt your inability to see love 

For what it really is?

And there she lay, wrapped in thin sheets watching him affectionately. She watched as he got up and disappeared into the bathroom, she closed her eyes as she listened to water spill from the faucet. He returned to her shortly, and lightly his lips brushed her temple. He gathered her up in his arms, and her teeth tugged at the sensitive skin of his neck. He released a silent groan and pulled her on top of him. She kissed him slowly and increased her pace as a slight moan ruptured from her lips. Bliss, she murmered.

Love dangled at her fingertips, always just slightly out of reach. She’d reach, and it’s push further away. Exasperation flooded her, and as love finally surrendered, so did she.

Once you gaze into a persons eyes, once you spend an immense amount of time studying their facial expressions, then you begin to see through them, then you will truly be able to know them. I’m always complimented because of my eyes, but his eyes, wow. At first glance, they’re brown. Simply brown. But there is a certain depth to this brown, it is as if they could reach down into the center of my being and grab hold of my heart in a single moment. They are a brown so pure that you’re not exactly sure if they’re radiating with joy, or glimmering with pain. But I stare at them, and I have to remind myself to breathe. It’s not just his eyes either, it’s the little wrinkles creasing his face when he smiles, and that’s how you know it’s a real smile. It’s his silly, attractive beard, and his pinkish-purple lips. Lips that drive me insane, even just looking at them drives me insane. It’s everything really.

I seem to be moving faster than before, as if life is nudging me forward, as if i’m forced to sprint downhill, as if there’s an extra bounce in my pace. But I’d like to slow down you see, I’d like to appreciate this. I’d like to ponder on this, on what you’ve gloriously forced me to become. Is it possible to truly live, if you do not love? Because all of a sudden, I feel as if i’m actually living, a little bit like Snow White awakening. 

Pure confidence is absolutely breathtaking, and extremely rare as well. Society has taught us that we are covered in flaws, that we will never be good enough, that we will always need further improvement. It has taught us that thinking you are good looking means that you are conceited, if you believe you’re intelligent then you’re only arragant, if you dare to think you’re outstanding then you’re really quite the opposite. Nothing could be further from the truth, confidence is alluring in itself. You could look like Shrek and if you were confident, it wouldn’t matter. He was confident, I noticed this upon first glance, so confident that it almost reached the point of cockiness. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself that did it for me, the way he walked with his head held high; whether it was or not, I was definitely in awe.

Do you know what it’s like to spend each waking moment pining after something? Or more specifically, someone? Do you know what it’s like to be constantly making up scenarios in your head where you and this person can finally be together? But you know that all of this will simply remain in your head, you know this but you keep creating them, you keep obsessing. Do you know what it’s like to know that this person is thoroughly off limits and for some reason instead of being turned off by that, you’re only even more encouraged? I’m sure you do, because people have some sick tendency to chase after what they know will only hurt them.

Whenever I’m alone my mind feels the need to escort me back to bad places (not that I am in any way alone in this), it places me in situations of heartbreak, of loneliness, and most of all fear. I close my eyes trying to fight the memory of standing motionless in front of him, trying to count in my head. One, two, three, four, attempting to wait it out. Keep silent, and count. Pushed onto the floor. Don’t move, just count. One, two, three, four. Get up, he says, so I get up and count. Answer me, he yells, but I keep silent, I know he doesn’t want me to, so I count. One, two, three, four. Insults stir the emptiness of the room, ignore them, just keep counting. My removal from the situation eventually frustrates him and he walks off muttering more insults. Useless, I hear, one, two, three, four.

While each and everyone one of you

Plummet from the sky

I will remain soaring

My branches will stretch

Into the clouds

As I shout down

Taunting those below

And the way you stare down at me

With a smile on your face

Makes me question the strength of the sun

For you are its greatest rival

Blood boiling

We’re stimulating one another

Adding flame to the fire

Our insults counter themselves

Bouncing off each ounce of pain

Anger covers heartbreak

We’re not really participating

But we’re in this all the way

Knocking eachother down

We’re stampeeded by hate

That’s all we are

Love feigning hate

Had in school suspension, was pretty bored.

Time is its own enemy; hands striking so effortlessly against the clock. It makes a fool of itself, becoming trapped in its own set of rules. And even if it dared (which is mercilessly not allowed) to step out of its boundaries, time would find itself in nothing but a distorted misconception of what it thought it knew. Civilization has given time a set of standards in which it is entitled to live by, if time were to be lead askew, what would become of civilization itself? Civilization needs time like time needs civilization, which is really not at all. 

Wind shrieked

As I melted into the sky

And was swallowed by the air

The invisible

Should feel no pain

Yet I am engulfed in flames

Burning with the trees

I am nowhere

It seems as if I am no longer inhabiting my own body

I’m simply watching from away

Watching myself fall apart

I want to know you. I want to know what the rest of the world is not privy to. I want to know why your heart beats so fast. I want to know your innermost insecurities. I don’t expect to get your complexity but I’d like to begin the process of understanding. I want to know you sincerely, I want to breathe you, as you breathe me.