I want to feel the bass shake and the treble deafen. I want the music to be so heavy on my ears, any remnants of my surroundings are drowned out. I want it to fill the aching emptiness, to help me forget, even if it is for a few moments. There would be no concerns about the past, present, or future. I’d be free.

That day she wore her tiny rebellion, as I liked to refer to it. The ring fit snugly around her lip. I could see the reflection of mine as I edged closer. A smile formed across her lips as they grazed against mine, moving in conjunction as the moment progressed. I missed her lips after a weekend of not being around. They felt so familiar. They reminded me of home, of how it felt to be in her arms as we would lie in bed. They reminded me of wrapping my arms around her when I walked into the kitchen as she would be attentive towards fixing breakfast. I missed the way her thighs tasted as I'd kiss them, feeling the invitation from rendering shudders. My fingers crawled around her waist and I pulled her closer. In that kiss, I felt whole.

I stood and thought back on all the times I had wanted to speak to her, to... finally get the chance to exchange at least a few words before she would leave senior year behind and move on to college. She lifted her face towards me and asked for my name. I managed to respond with a "Vicky." Her smile overwhelmed me. It was a smile I had been wanting to see since the day I had first seen her. The way a few strands of hair hung over her face left me in awe. How could someone be so beautiful? The remainder of the conversation is now a blur. I was assured that was probably the last time I would ever talk to her, but I was happy I had finally gotten the chance to. Little did I know, though, there were a few more conversations to come in the days that followed. Her name was Michelle, and that tiny moment will forever be etched within my memory.

Even the most miniscule amount of remorse you feel, I feel as well. Every ounce of pain you suffer makes me wince. My chest aches whenever your eyes brim with tears, and my sanity shatters when that bloody razor falls on your marble bathroom floor.
It appears my soul is embedded to yours, for I feel as though you complete me. I wish I had the courage to tell you that you are beautiful. I know words like that would have helped me when I was feeling similarly. I, however, am introverted and keep to myself. You, on the other hand, radiate with an artificial sheet of joy everyone seems to appreciate. I can see through that, though. I know how you're feeling, and I recognize what you do in order to try to hide it..

Isolation

The presence of others discomforts you.

As you surround yourself with solidity, you feel lonely, but at least you’ve got your thoughts as a safe harbor.

You know you shouldn’t isolate, but you feel as though you can’t help it for it’s the only way you feel at ease.

“Surround yourself with people,” they say. “Don’t allow yourself to be alone with your thoughts,” they say.

They’ve got their reasons, the isolater’s got theirs.

What’s worse? The loneliness or the discomfort?

Take my hand in yours and accompany me through.

Approach me with your lips of scarlet, as I lose myself in every bit of you.

You’d lay me then on your carpet, I’d run my fingers along the rough surface and allow my eyes to wander as you took your sweet time wandering down with those sweet lips of scarlet until I’d feel it inappropriate to have my hands by my side and would run my hands through your hair, holding on, clasping as I’d begin feeling myself become helpless at the will of your tongue.

Light up the incense,
Release your inhibitions and let the music penetrate your soul.
Breathe in the sweet scents, become one with the humid air, the marble floor.
Shake the commodities away, taste liberation.
Dance in your naked sweat, be content with your foggy reflection.
In this world, a world to yourself, there is no need to be self-conscious.
Merely glance at your form of incarnation, and think nothing of it, for it is only flesh.

I'm tired of not being taken seriously.

It sucks, not being taken seriously. You say what's on your mind and you're given weird faces. I don't know whether it's me and how I have portrayed myself that has given people the impression that I am incapable of processing a situation, reaching a conclusion, etc. or people don't follow me but... ugh. It's frustrating. I am no longer a fucking child.

Affection

It's the way two bodies intertwine with one another when led by either lust, affection or a combination of the two. It's the way people's lips lock and move in sync with one another, supporting each other, leading each other. It's when a hug becomes more than a mutual greeting, when it's held long without the impulse of letting go as both people's thoughts run and past experiences are remembered. It's having the ability to possess feelings for someone. It's the yearning for intimacy we're hardwired with.. it's "love."

I grabbed an Arizona and a few grapes from the fridge and slipped through the front door, unnoticed. I stood on my longboard and pushed forward before they'd notice. I was to go somewhere far away, to surround myself with the peace and tranquility I knew only solitude could bring. The wind blowing my hair into my mouth and sight of passing cars made me feel as though the chains of the restrictions and limitations brought by juvenility had been broken. I was tired of being considered a child, of having my privacy invaded by an overly concerned mother. I had no time to myself, and wanted to spend the last few minutes of the year in a way I'd truly be content - no, happy. I didn't want to be content or "ok" any longer. I wanted to be genuinely happy, even if it was for those few minutes. After my legs ached from pushing onward, I finally halted on an empty street and laid down on the board. After a few minutes of drinking tea and relishing on memories of the past year, my phone's alarm went off. Happy New Year.

This had only been a fantasy. I looked at my image in the mirror as I burned my hair and lathered makeup on. I was about to spend New Years with family, people who I had to be cautious around, people who I wasn't comfortable around. I'd have to eat food I didn't want to, I would have the fact that I was drinking non-alcoholic apple cider repeated in a jestful manner from the adults and I would be spending time around children I would rather not have been around. Happy New Year.

That feeling of...

feeling as though you no longer know someone... not being able to walk up to them and do that handshake you used to do. It's as though you haven't got a place in their lives anymore. You aren't sure where things went wrong, either. I'm tired of being confused. "Fuck it." sigh If only it were that simple. You saw me in ways no one else had. What I learned from you had a huge impact on what I would make of future decisions. Thank you for that. What's in the past is in the past, though. Friends come and go. Life goes on, all that shit.

Head bowed, I stared at the sand beneath my feet as I walked along the park's shore. Almost instantly, the waves would roll by in their continuous cycle and wash away my footsteps, any evidence that I was ever there. Instantaneously, I realized then that the same would eventually happen with everything I knew. Everything we know is merely a minute snippet of history. Evidence of us ever existing would eventually be washed away as well. In the case of my footsteps, it would only take a few seconds. As for how long it will take for evidence of us, only time will tell.