Sunday, Dec. 05, 2004 @ 11:03 pm
After I talk to you, my Euterpe, my heart is shakey and my hands jitter. Creative genius, my muse, maven of music. I ignore your youth and pretend that your aspirations will all one day become. I believe in you, and I foolishly believe in us.
I've tripped deep into this, so deep, but not even touched your skin. I didn't mean for this to happen (or did I?) - I can't help my eyes from seeing greatness, and I can't keep my mind from craving you.
I find myself tearing apart my room, looking for the answer to what sort of Man I need beside me. It is exciting inside of my head. I feel the world accelerating around under my (our) feet. Who is going to be the first to be flung from the wild whirligig I sent spinning with a reckless flick? My knees are braced for the stinging gravel, for it's my turn to fall.