† Friction.

I should be yearning. You got me all fucked up in the head, making me sway to the left instead of being on the verge of being right. You got me staying up past midnight, attempting to decipher your actions and the bullshit you’ve strung together, exporting silence and no traces of whispers. I should be yearning. I should be pursuing you as if we were caught in the wilderness, where you’re the prey and I’m dying for a taste…

I should be. I should be. But I’ve already got the taste of you in my mouth and it just won’t leave. I already shed your innocence and spilled your blood. Who knew that humans have such a power to great a grand facade? You say you’re pure? I know your impurities. I’ve pushed past your usual boundaries, and I’m satisfied with the hour long friction between my skin and yours. I’m satisfied with the excavation of your inner psyche, revealing the monster hiding in the deepest portions of your brain. Knowing that you have no limits is keeping me sane. We created fire, and now you want to burn us alive? So be it. I have no regrets. For that moment in time, I had no morals, but neither did you.

It’s over. It’s done. Fuck it, though. I’d have to admit that it was pretty damn fun. See you around, but if not, that’s cool too. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a collision. Hit and runs are too fucking common to me nowadays.

(Source: jhayjhaythejetplane)

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