Kiss me, an exhausted soul

Perhaps the most contradictory situation of my life is the struggle of wanting to be alone but never ever wanting to feel lonely. And all my life all I have ever really felt is lonely. Lonely in life, lonely in love, lonely in almost every corner I could reach. Except friendship; thankfully I have been granted the ability to cling to a small gathering of wonderful people and thanks evermore to the universe for encouraging them to cling back.

Yet kissing you made me feel, for a brief span of time, that I had been wanted. That I was someone’s first choice. That I had been  desired, attained, and then conquered. I felt like I was the gold at the end of the rainbow you’d been searching for.

Some rare, treasured thing.

Kissing you turned down all the noise in my head. It cleared all the fog laying low behind my eyes. I felt what it was like to be ‘in the moment.’

How rare this is for me. There is so much chaos, color, and cacophony in my head that I can’t ever…just be. As much as I try there is always something to think about, to worry about, or to create. The wheels in my head are hot with a never ending friction. My soul has never slept, never rested, never paused. And after decades of endless running, the minutes I spent kissing you were the metaphorical wrench thrown into my exhausted gears. How can I possibly thank you for such a moment of peace? You are already gone, getting smaller and less significant as time passes. And most cruelly of all, my mind has seemed to have quickened in its endeavors now that I am not kissing you. Every second your lips are not on mine is now more burdensome than ever.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s