Amiss directions

Like trying to swallow an iceberg, i blink excessively thinking it might suppress the luminous glitter that coats the enlarged pupils of my eyes. The low temperatures canvas my raw body and my hands grip ineffectually, the remains of my work, as my sweat soaks into the shades of the paper that I've touched. I inhale only more stinging air, clogging the narrow hole of my already tight throat. I look down to see my own hand, damaging the skin of my own fingers, by violently scratching the edges of my nails into the creases of another, yet i hardly even noticed. My eyes studies distance which seamed to be stretched decades away. My mind can't company me, i feel as if it's lost all good senses. Passing crowded halls, my clear emotion is visible to anybody looking, but i feel invisible, governing the society of my own world far from where I'm actually standing. My intentions are only focused on each of the upcoming movements of my feet, seeing as i don't know know where I'm taking them, or where there taking me. I'm destination less and I'd fall at the sight of your feet, but i don't dare turn around and neither do you. In a moment, all purpose if forget and my backtracking thoughts collide with one another. Dying for the comfort of your arms, i spin circles, dodging people as if they were cars. It seemed that dangerous, every movement was fearful of contact with a body that didn't belong to you. I'd die if i were touched, yet i was searching for your feel, completely aware my stubborn feet were stumbling me in the wrong direction. I wanted you to find me, so i continued the agonizing run, walking in an amiss direction.

I can't wait to kiss you.