my young capricious heart

And
with each gesture I make
I'm pulling myself deeper in.
And
the boundary lines are blurring,
definitions are confusing.
And
my head is delirious, giddy;
I can't tell whether decisions are blurred by intoxication
And
feeling is bottled up in my heart,
and it is pumped, released, thick and heady through my veins
And
hurt looms near,
the fragility of human comfort and desire
And
there is fear and uncertainty,
yet tentativeness and direction
And...
And...
And...

In the end, nothing matters.
Just that it feels good, comfortable, safe; and that I'm here.

2010-07-10
11:02 a.m.
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