beinwant.

Stupid mouth, please shut up.
Your not winning any wars.
I'm the one who's left behind,
Cleaning up the mess you've caused.
. . . . .
With the way you undo me,
Spinning circles in my mind.
. . . . .
You'll never hear the sound.
. . . . .
And I don't think you understand,
How much I want to hold your hand.
And how that scares me more
than anything
I know.

I'm exhausted. It's been a long day.
I got to my car today, ready to drive up the mountain, and got hit with the heat. The rush of misunderstanding. The rush of my mind and heart unzipping their proximity. Anxious and shaky I drove up the winding road only to drift in and out of sleep on my friend's couch until we put in a movie. [The Wrestler is a damn good film, btw.]
The night progressed and I found comfort in company, until it went the opposite direction.
My eyes are heavy, and my fingers are constantly failing my thoughts.
I feel unsatisfied, to the brink of sadness. But I'm okay with that. 'The winter has been hard on all of us.'
Everywhere I turn, I'm greeted with another weary soul. Ready for the creaking and moaning of winter to give way to a healing spring. It's about that time.

My shoulders are tightly wound with the presence of expectation and desire.
Expectations that are made for me that I can't follow through on- -resulting in loss of a general proportion. But that wasn't my decision.

Desire for someone who is far away.

I feel like something is waning, and I don't like it. It just makes me struggle to cover up lost ground. As you step back, I'll step forward. Which isn't the safest idea. But I'm doing it anyways.

I have class tomorrow.

I'm sorry the entries have been so dreary lately, I'm in a period of transition. I can only go up from here.