Vous me faites bleue.
Not so easy anymore.
Keep me guessing until the end.
Wake me up in the night drenched in love.
Make me scream for more of your eyes.
The pressure valve has been released.
I’m unsure of what is illusion and reality.
Just keep singing me sweet words.
I’m waiting for the day when we stop.
I’m waiting for the day when we start.
The wild wills for me.
Dreams only exist when I am alone.
Find me on the shore of your memories.
Think of me when you feel lonely.
I guess it wasn’t Love after all.
But how foolish to think it sad.
Unveiled, I can see you now.
Hello.
Break me down. Stop.
Touch my lips. Stop.
Keep me coming back. Stop.
Disillusioned by the truth.
This is more of what I had in mind.
I suppose this makes sense.
Then why do I always feel your eyes on me?
"I love like a leaky faucet or I love like a dam breaking. There is nothing in between."
Shinji Moon (via naturaekos)
(Source: naturaekos, via amargedom)
You are so outrageous my insides burn, and yet I can’t stop staring. I count the times your leg touches mine, how many seconds we keep our eyes locked,
Take a moment to listen to the universe. An infinite number of things are happening at every moment. Everything a cog in this hyperdimensional machine. Extend your field of self as far and as deeply as you can.
The air that becomes the wind. The water that erodes the last of that once mountain. The birth of new life. The perpetual cycles. Something being unmade. Disassembled. All the way down to the microbiomes in your body. Go deeper. To the infinitely small were the rules of physics suddenly change. Pulling all the way back to the planets. Yes you can see what’s going on there. As well as in the supermassive black hole at the center of every Galaxy. Even our own. It pulling and bending everything. Even light. What does that sound like? Nothing. Somethings are completely silent and void even when they contain multitudes. Even when life is centered around them. Silent and dark.
That’s just one instance. Time is infinitely small and large.
That’s just one layer. Everything is infinitely simple and complex.
Where exactly do you fit? You’re somewhere between it all. Don’t be afraid. We’re all made of the same thing. The impossible.
The Day
Oscar the baker awoke to a noise downstairs. He lived above his bakery and would rise with his bread each morning. He had been dreaming of muffin, souffle, pan. He went downstairs assuming it was mice. But when he arrived, it was a different story.
There, in his bakery were 27 aunties who had begun decorating, the walls, and the cakes. Many had baby helpers. They hung streamers from the ceilings and flowers everywhere, even in the icebox. From the windows they hung golden bird cages, home to those of beautiful red plumage, then they taught them how to sing.
Several had made him new clothes, which he couldn’t deny, though he tried. Oscar looked in the mirror and thought he looked like a baker in a white suit, with the accompanying white hat. The aunties finally stopped moving, their creation was complete, presented to him was his home turned into a splendid garden. Trees lined his hallways, all types of flora and fauna in his bedroom, and a choir of birds.
Aunties, what’s going on? Oscar asked.
Ahem, my dear. They replied in unison.
Today is the day you meet Carlos.
I am drawn to you like a ship to the sea. Every love before dims in your presence for all my standards are set to you. There was once space unoccupied by thoughts of you. Moments pass and I still feel your hand around my waist and your fingers against mine. There was a time when I was quiet in the dark, then you shone to me like rain in a drought. I am drawn to you like shadows to light.
We aren’t meant to be, but how could I resist.
You are the only one who understands me.