Where am I going?
I have plans, carefully laid out, down to the exact minute, but then you have the audacity to walk in (all beautiful, with those eyes) and hit the self-destruct button on anything going right for me.
The worst part is that I can’t stop it.
Because that would mean stopping you, and you’re addicting, filling the former purpose of my life with the dust and the lust of going nowhere, and I’m completely powerless.
But it’s okay, I think, because a boy with those eyes would never be trouble. He’s good, I swear, as my bones crumble and my thoughts wither to ash.
Perfect, even, like a hauntingly beautiful melody.
I am a precariously-built sandcastle, and every jab is a sharp kick to my walls, allowing me to crumble grain by grain into a pile or pretty nothingness.
But those eyes promise forgiveness, promise I’m-sorry-I-won’t-do-it-again, whispering I love you’s until the sun brinks over the dewy horizon.
As quick as you are to tear down my sandcastle, you are even faster to re-build it, adding a tower here, a moat there, until I (feel) even more fortified and invincible than I did the last.
But then the rains come, and the waves crash, and I am left defenseless again from the strong current.
I can do nothing but allow myself to be swept away, pulled by those eyes.
E. D.
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1 AM- A Collection of Poems
Poesía[Random Updates] But why would we sleep anyway, when we have a world to explore and stars to entertain us? Copyright © 2013 by madmoisellebelle. Unless otherwise indicated, all materials on these pages are copyrighted by madmoisellebelle. All right...
