For Fear

Deep within, I feel desire turning over in my mind. I know what I'm doing and I don't, but I know, either way, I should be able to make it through. This feeling is awful and terrific, taking over the core of my heart and the center of my mind. Lust is something hard to control and is often mistaken for real feelings of the more internalized type. I don't ever want to cause anyone any pain, but I can't control my feelings, and I damn well can't control anyone else's. But I'm aware of my actions and how reckless they are, and I know that my mind is traveling to a darker place, where I don't know how to tell the difference between what I really want and what I feel I must have. I could simply recite the stupid mantra that my generation feels hopelessly tied to - YOLO - and continue on with my thoughtless behavior, but I've never had the upper hand when it comes to my suitors and their emotions, and I'm not such a horrible person that I would hold someone's insecurities in my palm and my mind just to disregard them and use them to my advantage. I could never be so cruel. I wish I could say, outright, what's on my mind. Maybe if I could, there wouldn't be so much of their blood on my hands from the blows that I have no control of. But I must remain silent, for fear of shattering them completely and for fear of disregarding my own dignity. For fear of dissolving the facade I've built from the beginning of the timeline to now.

"I'm addicted to hurting."
-EDEN

Summer Heartache

He's still mine. My body and my heart can both agree with that. This boy is still mine, and I own that every time I touch him. He flew with me through the summer and soccer and wracking up as many blunts as we could before the sun set. We'd smoke at the abandoned playground by ourselves, wait for the sky to darken so we could soar through this city of twinkling lights, enjoying the eyes that shift awkwardly from the contrast of out faces to our locked hands. I sometimes wish that I could have that feeling back. We did everything together, and then some. When the world tried to separate us, we found each other. He'd show up at my window and throw rocks, and I felt like his little princess when I'd look outside and see him smiling up at me. I miss this boy, but it's impossible to really even miss him if he's still mine.

Sequel

Flip to the first chapter of the sequel following summer love, see I've found strength and preparation. I've found familiarity in your voice, in your eyes, in the palm of your hand where you've kept my heart all this time. Your apology bleeds at the edges of my fingertips, your words scrawled in your own blood, and I am far more than just grateful for your stubborn sacrifice to allow me some closure. The anxiety that I feel only when you are near swells, but for some reason it doesn't make me squirm the same, make the tears well up the same, make my heart quicken it's pace the same. The feelings are more tolerable, but I'm still slightly uneasy, and I don't know how to react to anything. It feels almost like everything felt before, minus the stress of worrying; who's he with when he's not with me? Why hasn't he said anything for so long?