Musing 002

The sickly sweet sensation of your words upon my skin leaves the hairs pin-pricked and standing like gentlemen. Sometimes i think that it would be better if you turned and walked away. But i know that when you're gone i'll see you in everything beautiful. The cavernous crevasse in which my angst lies hidden amongst alien emotions by foreign footsteps draws nearer with every tick. Nothing ever touches: particles are separated by air while your thoughts are so close but yet still burning at my feet. The rings of calcium on my bones tell of the times i left and came over again and again but only to leave and walk away.