He hurts me. In this way that I can’t describe. It’s a good kind of hurt, most of the time. Like he’s taunting the beast a little. He’s rattling my cage; poking and prodding me back to life. He stirs me up, and beats off my lethargy. I’m reminded of how hungry I am. My capacity to want… to want to be full… of something that I can’t create in my own head.
But when he looks at me like that, his face a little blurred by motion… his eyes, asking me a personal question… then I’m filled with this dull ache. He reminds me, that I’m falling… I’m falling to my knees.
I’m falling in love with him.
I can’t seem to fall fast enough. I want to know that he’ll be there, when I hit the bottom. Not to break my fall… just to watch me break my face open.
I don’t need forever… I just need some leeway from gravity.
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- xx-machine said: Beautiful. Pardon me while I do some much needed back-reading since I’ve missed too many of your posts this week and last.
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