Monday, August 1, 2011

I start. I provoke everything that comes from your chest. Everything that runs through your lungs, your mouth, your heart, your eyes. When you look away. When you look towards me. When you look towards others. Every move you make is all a big reflection of my own actions.


If I'm healthy, you are healthy. If I am mad, you want to run away. If I am sad, you feel bored. If I am happy, you want sex. If I am loving, you look in my eyes. If I stress, you play with some eletronic device. I can't always be perfect. Can't always smile. Can't always have you so easily drifted apart from me, because of my own actions.


When I'm healthy, I need you happy. When I am mad, I need you solid. When I am sad, I need you to give space, unless I don't need it. When I'm happy, I need satisfaction. When I am loving, I need words. When I am stressed, I need someone to take me out.


I get what I don't need. I don't know how to act.

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