If I could paint my feelings onto paper and morph it into words I would, I wish I could read my art out loud like people will just understand the foreign language of my thoughts and feelings. Words won't ever live up to the feelings they describe.
The goosebumps that trail up my arms and the feeling of another's warmth against me, similar but different, the prickles in my brain like static electricity, the pumping of my blood in and out of my heart like a rhythmic beat to the soul, soul music doesn't even get close to describing the feeling of our souls, living breathing, the vibrations of our existences.
The vibrations of everything existing, I crave, I need, I fiend to feel that feeling of being spiritually overwhelmed from hearing every beat the universe drops and skips. The snare and beat drops, the stomach dropping base and thum and drum, the radically fast tempo that speeds and slows your heart rate, pulling and pushing at the cords of your heart like a cello.
YOU ARE READING
Sparks in the Dark
Cerita PendekJust short stories and poems and vent writings I make
