Every bump on my skin is goosed
My eyes are dilated and their ceramic gloss is two faced, melancholy tears and wedding joy both
Intestines I had forgotten now beat with my heart, shrink wrapped against its Juliet desire
The time passing vexes and seizes me, the quiet thump of butterfly wings
I can feel tingles, lingering on fingers—fingers? Or under my skin, my nerves shot up with opiate electricity
Mechanic engines roar instead of hiss, letting slip that they are more than patched up airbags
Bundles of nerves conglobate into a single image, the whole potential of the brain looking at lips
I am stuck on that awkward divide between happiness and tomorrow
and it’s wonderful
"One day, the worst things that have ever happened to me will be the best things that have ever happened to me."
"And never have I felt so deeply at one and the same time so detached from myself and so present in the world"
|~ Albert Camus (via supitsalex)|