painfully trying to make out your expression’s meaning.. Are you enjoying yourself? Are my proclamations are off-putting as your aloof smirk? Discontent wouldn’t describe what I am receiving.
An overwhelming sense of pride and monarchy only alludes to my assumptions of who you might represent to me, and I to you. Although you make my stomach churn, my bones ache, my breathing patterns quicken, my words fall out haplessly, & my limbs feel weightless as they fumble blindly for something. Something unnoticed. It’s okay.
Utterly under a sick, whimsical spell you had no idea your phosphorus, nimble green eyes had cast.
Some days I feel wholly unaffected, and almost in disgust with what I’ve seemingly laid out all by myself. There’s no excuse.
Mystery usually only lasts as long as you’ll let it. I’m still here.
