All My Faults, Are My Fault

i'm awake. questioning my own questions. doubting my own doubt. my curiosity killing me and all my faults are my fault. scribbling frantically hoping that maybe from miles away my truths will have some kind of relevance to your emotions. secretly, i'd love to tie a beautiful yellow ribbon around your finger, forget me not. a lone balloon, i feel uplifted yet in the sky i am wandering aimlessly trying to grow organically with roots i planted months ago, but never settled in soil close enough to your heart. stranded in a sky-like garden with no water and not enough warmth to keep the flowers open. my words frozen like ice cubes pressing for your tongue to melt them into a soft sparkle, words i'd like to catch in the under tow of your rushing breath and fingertips i'd like to trace, leave behind ruminants of my soul. circle of marbles, allow me to knock you out of your rut and maybe advert your eyes to the side and catch me there. it might be easier if you just say no. all the signs are green as go but the motion in the action is still, i hope for yellow but there is nothing, it's all stop and go. i cannot slowly roll because of the berlin wall to your life that i will crash into. i slip on a higher heel, one that will endanger my life because it will throw caution into my mind and allow me to ease into your presents but getting away from that is something i haven't quite mastered, and your goodbyes are something i cringe at hearing. i am beating myself up over feelings i cannot help but bare. truths that are scratching at me and i can't make them back down. words slicing my tongue that i cannot speak out loud for the fear of you tasting them in the wrong context and deeming them manufactured or hallmark and they will be irrelevant to your own emotion but very faithful to mine. i tell myself i am done. feeling idiotic and foolish but there is a much deeper tie to this than i can control. it is a entire connection to my mind, body and soul and stupid me, cannot cut loose. i realize that i should probably kiss our tomorrows goodbye, because i haven't had a today with you. but i can't help but want to put up a fight, a promise that i am determined and to make mockery of my drive would just fuel my desire to be apart in relation to your mind. not asking for all of your time, but i cannot not wash my hands nor clear my mind of you. tackling me in aspects that if i told you, you would believe untrue. a build up of anticipation, why am i still anticipating. call me crazy for i often feel i am. i am very distort and perhaps for the hour of the night that it is, i shouldn't be ranting about such powerful feelings but they wont let me sleep, lovely bullies i can only thank for encouraging me, but a punk drunk love feeling that has cascaded over me, may i offer you a glass?