our intertwined fingers strain the sunlight from its glaring spot in the sky. my eyes burn when i look away from your face -- is the sun to blame, or just my heart? i am torn between where i'm supposed to be and where i want to be: in your arms. and yet we remain apart, two bodies aching to join but afraid to challenge the expectations in the air.
even today, when we have learned a sort of etiquette, we remain unbalanced. society forces us apart but there's a string drawing us together, some sort of connection that we can't deny. i feel selfish to crave everything i see, but i can't lie to myself anymore. i can't live without reaching for more.
i am happy where i am. happy in stability. and most days i can accept that; he's exactly what i need and what i want and yet i always crave more. i want to be off balance. i want to be unfulfilled because it makes me work for more. i am much more productive, much more creative...without something solid to fall back on. is it fair to him that i've settled?
and yet i know he's the perfect fit for me and that i should stop searching. i don't know how to make something worthwhile with a pen without something in my loins driving me to say something. i've gotten to this point where i can't be innovative without some passion
even today, when we have learned a sort of etiquette, we remain unbalanced. society forces us apart but there's a string drawing us together, some sort of connection that we can't deny. i feel selfish to crave everything i see, but i can't lie to myself anymore. i can't live without reaching for more.
i am happy where i am. happy in stability. and most days i can accept that; he's exactly what i need and what i want and yet i always crave more. i want to be off balance. i want to be unfulfilled because it makes me work for more. i am much more productive, much more creative...without something solid to fall back on. is it fair to him that i've settled?
and yet i know he's the perfect fit for me and that i should stop searching. i don't know how to make something worthwhile with a pen without something in my loins driving me to say something. i've gotten to this point where i can't be innovative without some passion
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