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by InterviewWithTheKat Apr 4, 2010
Love, romance /
It starts as a scintilla in my heart
And drips like honey.
It's a sickness
Burning and pleasant
Painful bliss and delicious
As balloon in my brain
Packed to burst with bats and butterflies
And all things that flutter
A smile perching in a ribcage
That contains nightingales-
With no desire to be set free.
They dash my veins and make my heart pump
Lighting the blood
Making it glow yellow as a sunset
Orange in colour
Red when reaching it's peak
A squeeze, a glorious choke
The air hugging my throat from the inside
Keeping in what needs to come out
It presents strange things to me
The insatiable urge to kiss the earth
It's voice murmurous and constant in my ear
It doesn't smell like spring flowers or cut grass
It smells musky, heady; thick with passion
Intoxicating and heavy behind the eyes
I know what it is
I met someone today
He doesn't know that I exist
For he is a figure, running through a glass box
The things I feel; they are for him
He is my everything
The panacea to my ill life
Last month he was someone else
Next month he will be too
He will change, but the feeling is always the same.
Of my own reality: there is no one
For a person of substance, I have never felt this way
As hard as I pray and beg and pray
He does not come
So I feel nothing
Until my hollow man graces the screen
His shadow will lilt through the glass box forever more.
And I will love him
Because there is no one else.