He is the can of Red Bull shaking in my hand.
At first sip he does nothing for me,
but then he slowly begins to take effect.
My heart accelerates,
my breathing quickens,
And I soon slip into the next world.
I feel like I’m floating whenever he’s in my system.
My feet are several inches from the ground,
and my head is in the clouds,
and I can’t seem to come down from this high he left me with.

She is the flag adorning my bedroom wall.
A memory fabricated from the ocean,
the stars,
shopping trolleys,
and the sound of fabric being torn at the seams.
She cannot be wiped from my mind,
nor can all the nights we’ve spent together.
Not that I would ever wish to forget about them.

I am the wordless demon that haunts their every waking hour.
The one who dreams of them with ardour,
and the one whose words come across as too strong.
I have been told I bat my eyes too often
and that my smiles occasionally seem more than just friendly.
I have been told that my touch is too tender,
and my motives are too selfish.
I have been told that I am the devil.

Survival in nature is always
a selfish process.
Whereas, Nature itself
built selflessly.