muh

he takes my words and turns them to silk, they flow out of me so freely and willingly. as if i cannot bring my hands up fast enough to block them from spilling. as if they have a mind of their own. as if they flow along a current too strong for my body to withhold. sometimes i feel like i'm better than other people. like i have this higher standard for myself even though at times i cannot carry my own body without crutches. i am better than no one. no one is better than me.

i could never grasp the concept of casual love and lust; how they correlate with one another on a flowing color gradient ranging from grey to vibrant reds. how someone can fill their gaps momentarily with a touch or a kiss or a loving gesture. these senses are not filled with romance. they are leeching sensations that latch until you're sucked dry of your bodily system. it leaves you empty. it leaves me empty. 

i cannot understand why people are so impulsive. why we suddenly feel like kissing the boy we see in the hallway. why we kiss a cute boy just because he is there. why it seems okay to accept body parts into your lips. letting your tongue create songs. on someone that doesn't even know your last name.