do you ever feel like a bad person
not by the word of someone else
but an inner disgust;
a creeping crawling entity that takes you down a path

no control but all the control in the world
crows one by one picking apart your thoughts

scavenging
eating away at any sense of belief you had in yourself

washed away like a sink once full of ***** dishes

I breathe but feel that's a privilege,
many before with purer hearts have gone

but me
I'm still here

He has eyes that wander
Wander through creaks and upstream
Down riverbanks and across the jungle floor

He has eyes that escape
Escape the connection of two souls merging

I don't know I can be enough for someone who is always searching for better

how it feels to be newly 24
it feels short termed
like a fresh turned leaf
the beauty is unimaginable but in the back of your mind the unrelenting doom that it will be gone so soon
and as the wrinkles of time sway you, it only makes sense to wonder about how many lines have formed due to worry
I've worried my whole life it seems
for external matters, internally, and things unseen
when will I get married
when will I have a baby
when will I become an adult
when will I feel ready?

Unanswered questions leave holes in my life, open ended questions are always the toughest, though seen easiest because you can elaborate

But what can I say

I shiver
I freeze to the bone
the.warmth of his love has experienced it's first frost

But you never realize how much you want a minor inconvenience when your mind feels numb

how much you want to be embarrassed,
have sweat rolling down your chin
to get stung by a hornet and walk in the path of the storm

I want to be late for work,
stuck in traffic,
lost in space and time itself--
feel the heat and pressure of life digging it's expectations and riddles in your back

I want to lose my keys for the rest of eternity,
break down on the highway because maybe then my silently breaking heart won't feel so left out

This silence is dangerous

how much you want to feel both the intensity and dullness of emotion
-kaitlynmarieadiary

is he who you really want?

is it his eyes, sharp shooters that have seen the world that I love

is it his mouth
that says the words that fill the void at the moment, but could never stand alone

or perhaps his hands
that hold me and comfort me
that allow me a sense of home within cracking walls and leaking faucets

dim the lights
conspire to undress the day
and find the light