Golden Bear (eithne_star) wrote,
Golden Bear
eithne_star

  • Mood:

Spill

It is lonely and yet not alone, but still I am by myself. I ponder and wonder and muse and think and yet none of it lasts more than the heartbeat it took to form. I am homesick and yet I am at home. I make no sense and yet my senses reel. I long for peaceful forests, for dusty paths, for moonlight trysts, for sparkling power. I am adrift in this vast briny ocean that seems to hold no life but myself, and yet still my memories are full of laughter and light and love. I wish to live in my memories, to take them with me in my pocket. I want to curl up and cuddle and sigh and scream and whimper and make someone else whisper my name. My dreams are bloody and satisfying and yet still I am not sated. I miss my darkness, my twin, my guide. This place is bare, but not barren, yet I cannot touch its sleeping force. Bereft, bereaved, brightly burning, but barely breathing. Oh, how I love alliteration. I want to come home, yet my home is here, so how can I bring my home to me? Oh, to have a willing partner in my schemes and fantasies. Sometimes you just need to get fucked. And I miss you.
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