artists

I never thought I would fall for you. I didn't see the days pass, I didn't notice. My mind wanders thinking of the backroom of the theatre we work at. Suddenly you are with me and things feel a little bit better. 

I was on my mind last night. Stuck. Anxious. I should enjoy the moment. There goes time. My brain works and works and it doesn't stop. Sometimes I can't stand still. It's tiresome. But I persist. You let me talk it through. You let me breath. You let me remedy it. You come with. I'm carrying my load, but so many others. 

I like your lips and how full they are. How you smile with the dimples but also with your lips. Your face changes. You look beautiful. You always do. I like how you take me and feel me as I too smile. I look beautiful. I always do. 

What made me resuscitate two Falls ago is what connects us. The stage. The art of make believe. Of stories. Of points of view. See, I have many. One is that when we are together life is a little less heavy. We have this little dance and I feel the lights coming on. You always give your maximum. I like it. I try to mimic it. I'm giving you all I can give for now. I hope it is enough. 

I haven't been writing much. Where are my muses, I wonder. Should I seek them for the sake of it? Should I live heartbreak yet again to feed this voice inside of me? It seems unpleasant, unfortunate that this voice can't be silenced. Yet it is her who makes me my whole me. No more denials, never again, I said. Feel it. The good and the bad.

Yet us. Our bodies enlaced breathing together as if walls to our own little world. That beat between you and me, those sweet kisses, and all denials are yeses and that voice quiets. I'm feeling it. You can't be a muse, so maybe I should be yours. And the voice shall quiet bending to my ownself as you feel me. Princess, I said. I'll play pretend as long as it turns you on. As long as I make you smile, I'll be me. But just because you make me feel so good.