Hush Waters | Teen Ink

Hush Waters

September 1, 2007
By Anonymous

Hush Waters will never be pure. He looks so beautiful from afar. All you see are his quiet waves, And blue waters. So dark and deep. But itÕs when you come near, You notice his gruesome character. You see how shallow the water really is. Hush Waters will never be pure. His dark wasteful waters will never be clean. He is foul, grimy, and disgraceful. I throw rocks of animosity into Hush Waters. He will never see my serenity while he remains inane. Hush Waters will never be pure. Even its most calm waves have ragged edges. Leaving behind far magic, close misconception. Hush Waters will never be pure. He is toxic. Not aware of his flippancy towards the environment. The dirt on him is so heavy, He cant move. Even if he was left bare, Hush Waters would not become clean. Because Hush Waters will never be pure. Even the most beautiful bird that watches the Hush Waters, And wishes to swim across it, Cant. He only drowns her with his ragged edged waves, dirty, muddy waters, and self-sorrow. Hush Waters will never be pure. Ever wonder why dirty ducks flock to a dingy pond? They are all he deserves. They are the mirror of the ‘Hush WatersÕ hearts.Ó Him His kisses were soft and gentle yet aggressive and satisfying. His hugs Warm and comforting yet firm and strong. His voice like a sweet tune Coming to ear As words of love and wisdom. His bodyÉ How I longed to touch. Run my fingers. up and down. Feel. Our hands attach gently. Our eyes lock. Our bodies being drawn together by gravity. The way we made beautiful music together. Passion and soul. Heart and rhythm. Our moments of imagination. Our fantasies interchanging, With each breath. Mind sex. Dancing between chains of love. Soft as still water. Understanding as clam flames. Flames for tears. Burning ice. Love sorrow pain and joy. Eyes As gorgeous as a candle lit dinner Upon a boat sialing across the Atlantic. His endless time spent with me. With no interruption. No need to end. His presumptuous thoughts Of that awaiting day of 21 years. Him The only that can turn my castle into a dungeon. Left under his spell. His dictionary of love As clear and simple as black and white. Him So simple and complicated. Him An intricate yes. A repulsive no. Him The one. Just him.


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