The Last Things I'll Put First
I sat in my room today on my bed and took note of the expressions of someone I am so entirely in love with in my own special way.
My most beloved first.
And one whom I hadn't really held in a long time.
Sometimes I get scared that people don't feel as strongly for me as I devote myself to them.
With some people it's just another irrational fear.
Others have proven me correct in the most devastating ways.
But most just leave me guessing, writing letters never sent and staring at pencils in the red light of my room like it will give me answers.
Whenever I'm most strong in love, I forget most everything else.
Like my clothes littered on the ground and pencils sticking in my side, holding myself and hoping.
Staring into eyes and just repeating in my mind that I'm not in love in ridiculously intense infatuation.
Like soul mates.
A term I don't understand but desperately wish for reciprocation.
I need to figure out exactly what I want to do.
I hope that this all leaves marks on me, like other people have, songs I can't let go of and my nose obsessed with every scent.
If I could make a mix CD, then a sense of fulfillment would overtake me so much. Because detached conversation in the words of other people do everything to explain what other people are to me.
"In Circles"
"Sleepwalking"
"Track You Down"
"Rebel Girl"
and some rap song from when I was younger and didn't know the names of every person singing on the radio.
All I really know is that I truly refuse to handle dissassociation and I'll cling in sweet smells until oblivion, soft curls and breathy giggles. And no one else will interven because we promise each other that. (I am pathetic in the bestworse way possible.
Because I work like that.
Other parties don't read this and in that I find satisfaction in that. Because they can only word a thought in pictures.
Then we laugh.
I. Love. Everything.
Goodnight.
My most beloved first.
And one whom I hadn't really held in a long time.
Sometimes I get scared that people don't feel as strongly for me as I devote myself to them.
With some people it's just another irrational fear.
Others have proven me correct in the most devastating ways.
But most just leave me guessing, writing letters never sent and staring at pencils in the red light of my room like it will give me answers.
Whenever I'm most strong in love, I forget most everything else.
Like my clothes littered on the ground and pencils sticking in my side, holding myself and hoping.
Staring into eyes and just repeating in my mind that I'm not in love in ridiculously intense infatuation.
Like soul mates.
A term I don't understand but desperately wish for reciprocation.
I need to figure out exactly what I want to do.
I hope that this all leaves marks on me, like other people have, songs I can't let go of and my nose obsessed with every scent.
If I could make a mix CD, then a sense of fulfillment would overtake me so much. Because detached conversation in the words of other people do everything to explain what other people are to me.
"In Circles"
"Sleepwalking"
"Track You Down"
"Rebel Girl"
and some rap song from when I was younger and didn't know the names of every person singing on the radio.
All I really know is that I truly refuse to handle dissassociation and I'll cling in sweet smells until oblivion, soft curls and breathy giggles. And no one else will interven because we promise each other that. (I am pathetic in the bestworse way possible.
Because I work like that.
Other parties don't read this and in that I find satisfaction in that. Because they can only word a thought in pictures.
Then we laugh.
I. Love. Everything.
Goodnight.