I am tempted by passion, get into trouble for passion, and get hurt by it. I am a lot of things rolled into one. I am never alone, I am so fucking infatuated with my own mind. I am too fucking free inside, the world just can’t keep up. I am not interested in getting the things I need, the ones I want are the reason I keep going. I don’t stop, I don’t slow down. I’m burning and exploding, and there is no need anyone should know the reason why.
My head is pounding, my heart is thumping so heavily I’m suffocating. But just like everything else, this will slowly fade away. The fact that its presence was once there is enough.
4 Comments
August 10, 2009 at 9:00 pm
pretty.
August 11, 2009 at 5:38 pm
What’s pretty?
August 14, 2009 at 6:50 am
your writing.
August 14, 2009 at 3:56 pm
Personally, I would never describe my writing as “pretty”, but thank you, that is just the sweetest :)