Lust

I remember the first time I fell in love with sexuality.
I've been high off it ever since.
They carry it so casually;
As if you all have no clue my legs are threatening to give out beneath me.
I think that is what makes me so giddy.
That you have no idea how gorgeous you really are.
You are oblivious to what a girl would give to live wrapped in your eyes for just a day.
And the desire....

It's relentless.

My hands are on fire.
They ache terribly to reach out and touch
the stranger I've fallen deeply in love with.
My feet are planted firmly to the ground
And silently chastising the lesser of my being that aches to wrap myself around you.
I respect all that you are too much to pout or grovel or beg;
but to say that I was just as composed on the inside would be a flat out lie.

My heart is a graveyard.
Everything is buried in there as deeply and repressed as possible,
But when they talk about love,
I swear I feel them scratching at the back of my brain
Trying to make room for you.

I question.
I over think.
I insert fear into things that never carried any danger to begin with.
I leap off of sky scrapers built with my own mind.
Maybe this is nothing.
But what if it's everything?

So here I remain.
Planted.
Silently, painfully
Admiring the art of you, 

The stranger in the Hall.