musings of a flighty teenager

ideas.

i really like the way
new things you like appeal to a sense
whether an idea or person or feeling
the way it leaves you tense

it's sharp in your mouth
like blood's metallic strike
it never fails to surprise you
though you know what it's like

it's suddenly foreign to the eyes
you're a voyeur, not meant to see
almost taboo
your gaze never leaves it be

it's smell is like home
but you never called it such
you breathe in its intoxicants
it soon becomes a crutch

it's a symphony to your ears
cascading inside, melting your brain
sending shivers down your spine
like a cold, steady rain

it's impossible to touch
a fantastic color or a hue
felt so vividly and understood not
but god, doesn't it touch you?