Thursday, December 3, 2015

I like being myself, but only when I’m scattered and various and gregarious.















you have a dinner to attend to; you knew about it two weeks ago; i wonder why you only telling me now; nonetheless you said you want to see me and i already told myself i will be there; no matter how late; we talked about the event; how you didnt exactly like this kind of socialise thing nonetheless you enjoyed the evening; i am attracted to you; i am not your normality; i dont wish to disrupt your life and routine; everything happening around us makes me nervous and restless until i am alone with you where i can feel calmer; you kept saying you like me; i start to wonder why and ask you what it means; you cant nail it but somewhat gave me an answer that is less than love, more than infatuation; i remain skeptical and unsure; then you always show me such affection and it leave me with great feeling and memory; your touch; your hug; all the motion and emotion; all waiting to be erupted every day and night; i need you; i want to be with you; i cant lose you; really? i still have doubt, i still and i will everything to just lust.


just lust.

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