Fuckin’ A!

Fuckin’ A!

I did it again.

I allowed myself to enjoy your company. I allowed you to wrap your arms around me.

I let your lips kiss my forehead. I let your heartbeat race against my body.

Why did you let this happen? Did you not know this effect you had on me?

We were just living in the moment, so why couldn’t those feelings just stay in that moment?

Why did they follow me home?

Now I have to put distance between us, again. Does “again” have to mean “forever” this time?

Fuckin’ A,                                                I hope not.

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Title-less

Title-less

I’m standing in front of you.
BAIL.

I was hoping that you grew

But that you was nothing but a tall tale.
Stale.

You would’ve been number three,

But nothing about you grew.

That had me looking at pale.

Tachycardia

Tachycardia

– 75 beats per minute –

6:47 AM: the sun rises as my feet drop down onto the carpet.

7:50 AM: volume reads “max” as I pull out of my driveway.

9:00 AM: an enthusiastic “hello!” echoes through the room as I’m approached by my target.

. . . . . . . . .

5:15 PM: volume reads “max” as I pull away from the labor of my day.

5:18 PM: lyrics touch me in a way that’s almost karmic.

Time no longer exists.
Every sound, every feel, every sense, stuck in a world of grey.

And then there’s you.

– 115 beats per minute –

7:06 PM: my eyes glued to your words as if they need to be guarded.

7:16 PM: all of my attention on the 4 inch display, just waiting for you to play.

9:45 PM: no words. no symbols. no activity. Just as you’ve done to my heart, I’ve done to these feelings of today, discarded.

– 60 beats per minute –