2006-07-15
my exhaust
it's not anger, and it's not despair.
it's this coagulated mix of both of them, and frustration and loneliness and apathy and pride. and then it all brews and then goes stagnant and dormant, too.
then we sigh or go online to record it, averting eyes and sheepishly smiling even if we don't know what that even means.
all i really know is that the stars are so wonderful and there they are and i could be beneath them right right now, with you and the softest part of your fingers right here on my chest on the place between the bone of the collar and the tenderness of my breast. your touch could pick up a little of my pulse beneath the flesh and all i could hear is the steady sound of your breathing, so real and there as your lungs collect and gently release the air that we share. i can see it in my mind and i know it but i have naught.
and i'm just sad and scared because i don't know who the hell you are and how long this is going to take.
leesah-likes at 1:02 a.m.