Felix Culpa

seemsabitparanoid:As soon as our fingers intertwined at first touch, as soon as our lips and bodies pressed against each other in hesitant splendor, the intensity of our passion would burn away the question marks and singe the edges of our hesitation. We would know whether to simply walk away from the initial attraction, or delve into each other and allow the fires to reach an intensity we had only experienced in our dreams.

seemsabitparanoid:Sadness leads my fingers to end of the page, sadness finds my eyes reading the last words of the book’s chapter as I mindlessly trace the worn and curled edges between my finger and thumb.  The storm outside assures me in my decision to write again, the thunder declares it is time to begin anew. 

seemsabitparanoid:There are days where it feels as though sheets of glass are constantly in front of me, allowing me to see and be aware of my surroundings but preventing me from participating in and experiencing life. On such days I become exhausted from having my smudged fingerprints being the only proof of my existence.

seemsabitparanoid:It never fails to turn the corners of my mouth upward when I realize the thoughts inside my head materialize and move to the rhythmic drops of rain falling against my bedroom window.

seemsabitparanoid: I simply want to curl up on your lap, have you run your fingers absentmindedly through my hair and sing me softly to sleep.

seemsabitparanoid:yellowbirdx: It’s the little things that cause a storm inside of me. And every time you’re close I shiver, shiver, shiver.