Turning on the shower…

There are the feelings we have always felt, carried within, hurried without. Then there are the moments, choices- change that amplifies these ever-present pieces of ourselves. I think about editorials, I dream about conflict and sexual appreciation- but mostly I miss that which for now, I cannot have. Graduation steadily approaches, along with it stressful exams I cannot pretend to be prepared for- it all happened so slowly in all its quickness. I struggle to concentrate, enter word or phrase or paragraph here = translation, I miss him. I miss him. I want him. I am haunted by this phantom scent of him, these ghostly expressions, the gold in his terribly blue eyes. The sharp of a tooth that no longer matches its counter, the triangular outline of his thumbs. It feels like I am bleeding again…