Ashton Ramblings.
I'm going to edit this later. I can barely stand it.
You,
I wake up at night from dreams of you, so vivid and real I can recall every touch, every fleck of color reflected within your eyes. The only feeling left after waking, either a plume of excitement within my stomach, my body crying out for you, covered in sweat, my hand halfway down my trousers and full of want, or an insatiable longing within my heart, words waiting on my every breath, longing to come out-my hands, reaching for you.
I don't know how things can carry on like this. I need, you, I love you, in any way that you'll allow me to and every way you wouldn't dream. I've cried your name in my sleep, I know I have, and from physical or emotional longing, it doesn't make a difference; it's unacceptable, and someone within my dormitory is sure to hear, and once that happens, one way or another, everything will unravel and fall apart.
I love you, I love you, I love you. I need you in any way you'll allow me to be close to you. Above everything, I need to be your friend; I need to look out for you, I need to care for you, I need to relieve whatever burdens you may bear, any out of place thought, any uncertainty.
Don't for a second think that it's out of any goodness that I need this. I'm not that good of person. These feelings come from nothing more than the deepest, most vile sort of selfishness. That's all I need, but I still want-I want breath ghosting over skin, the entanglement of limbs, passion so pure I'll feel like I'll die. I want "I love you", soft brushes of fingers. I want to monopolize your time, make you crazy for me, to spend every waking and even most unconscious moments together.
I want Kayleigh to cease existing in your world and therefore mine, I want to be your focus. I want to be everything you rely on, all that you need. I don't want you to need anything from anyone else. I take everything you'll give me, and always want more.
I want you, I need you more than anything, I love you more than I love myself and in the blackest sort of ways. I hate it when you talk about Pretty Kayleigh, I hate Frankie's knowing looks and obvious disgust, and I hate that I can do nothing but run from you and hope you'll chase me, with the knowledge, without a doubt, that you won't.
I hate how pathetic I am.
-A.
You,
I wake up at night from dreams of you, so vivid and real I can recall every touch, every fleck of color reflected within your eyes. The only feeling left after waking, either a plume of excitement within my stomach, my body crying out for you, covered in sweat, my hand halfway down my trousers and full of want, or an insatiable longing within my heart, words waiting on my every breath, longing to come out-my hands, reaching for you.
I don't know how things can carry on like this. I need, you, I love you, in any way that you'll allow me to and every way you wouldn't dream. I've cried your name in my sleep, I know I have, and from physical or emotional longing, it doesn't make a difference; it's unacceptable, and someone within my dormitory is sure to hear, and once that happens, one way or another, everything will unravel and fall apart.
I love you, I love you, I love you. I need you in any way you'll allow me to be close to you. Above everything, I need to be your friend; I need to look out for you, I need to care for you, I need to relieve whatever burdens you may bear, any out of place thought, any uncertainty.
Don't for a second think that it's out of any goodness that I need this. I'm not that good of person. These feelings come from nothing more than the deepest, most vile sort of selfishness. That's all I need, but I still want-I want breath ghosting over skin, the entanglement of limbs, passion so pure I'll feel like I'll die. I want "I love you", soft brushes of fingers. I want to monopolize your time, make you crazy for me, to spend every waking and even most unconscious moments together.
I want Kayleigh to cease existing in your world and therefore mine, I want to be your focus. I want to be everything you rely on, all that you need. I don't want you to need anything from anyone else. I take everything you'll give me, and always want more.
I want you, I need you more than anything, I love you more than I love myself and in the blackest sort of ways. I hate it when you talk about Pretty Kayleigh, I hate Frankie's knowing looks and obvious disgust, and I hate that I can do nothing but run from you and hope you'll chase me, with the knowledge, without a doubt, that you won't.
I hate how pathetic I am.
-A.