In and out.
I can feel my lungs.
They stretch and constrict themselves for you.
They cry and live in pain for you.
Because you always take their life away.
You make it hard to breathe. You make my heart feel like it just ran a ten mile track race.
You slowly **** me.
In a good way.
It makes me realize that I am alive and there's nothing so bad about this.
It shows truth in love and that such a fairytale feeling can exist.
Though. Does it?
Is this feeling really love or merely lust within my veins?
Many lust for *** but I lust for the way your eyes look at me.
I long for the feeling they give to me.
To be around it, is to not breathe easily, to be without it, is to not breathe at all.