abby714
I braided my hair one day, my mother had not been the one to teach me. She was never much good at that sort of things. I kept trying and tying and knotting my hair until it was nearly unfixable - that much she was good at. Untying my knots.
Wading. Waiting. I am waiting for my love. Wading through this river. Where we always swore we would meet. Waiting, Waiting. Wading.
The crushing waves over my body. The crushing sound of the voices in my head, my mother, my teachers, the voices on the radio, screaming at me to try harder. To reach. To bound.
Lust is not love, though they both begin with the letter "L" and consist of four letters. While that is deceiving, they are not nearly the same. Love is deep, slow, soulful emotion. Intense and forever. Lust is fleeting passion. Nothing more.
writing since 2011 · 7 entries · 6 days shown up
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lustwaitinglovewadingwingsnearlycrushingvoicesmotherhairdreambeststudentwholeinchcorner