reannajean

butterflies

Last night I could have sworn I could have flown with all the butterflies in my stomach. I thought I was floating on a cloud. I couldn’t fathom it all, it kept me up. My blankets and pillows could not suffice. They didn’t feel the same, they weren’t your arms, they weren’t you. The discrepancy between my sheets and you were ridiculous. I was restless. I was with the wonderful thought of you. It drove me mad, I could not clutch on any inanimate object and project it to be you. You surpass all that I am capable of withholding. It drove me mad, I was exhausted of having to keep myself from bursting into a million pieces of brilliance that consisted of you. It drove me mad that you were capable of such, even if it was just a moment. You drove me mad. I was overwhelmed by the spell you had cast on me, I was unconscious and mindless and loving every moment of it.

This morning I came to realization that I have a great disdain for that feeling. I hate floating on clouds. I hate the deceit you empower. I hate losing sleep. I hate infatuation. In the end, I hate that I can still fall back into your arms knowing I’ll be left with nothing.

Posted 6 months ago — 8 notes