Your Unspoken Aspect | Teen Ink

Your Unspoken Aspect

February 24, 2018
By PiercedSoul01 BRONZE, Waxahachie, Texas
PiercedSoul01 BRONZE, Waxahachie, Texas
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I have racked my mind, trying to figure this whole thing out. The staying, the going, the threads we claim hold us here and the people who have stopped to play a tune on them. I sometimes relate it to waking up in waist deep snow in our former selves. The us we wish we could give one another. Energy to speak and breath, to engage with you. I don't even know where all of this insane energy came from. Looking through my soul, not my eyes. Your energy collides, it speaks to mine. Your energy is apart of me... I am left speechless.
 

The instant our eyes met, I felt an unspoken understanding. My heart ever so silently, made a promise never to leave you. What do I want? Have you ever asked me that? I want all of this. I just wish you would have asked. Lost kisses but, lips still locked tight. Hands separated but, still firmly intertwined. Inaudible whispers but, confessions loudly heard. Two beings but, connected as one. We have a bond that'll never break. With you I can relate, not hesitate and just meditate to the reality that will become our mind's never ending ride into the storm we know as life.
 

The kiss happened like a dream. A kiss, it's simple really, although it can be complex. With you it would be complex because, it would mean something. But with someone else it would be simple, just two lips touching. I suppose we will figure out the full complexity when we do. Close your eyes and imagine a kiss filled with longing and passionate bliss. Feel your hands about my waist, see if you can. My yearning taste, and as intensity starts to grow, hold me tight and don't let me go. Read my mind and write me back. My body language crossed the line as a matter of fact. 
 

The split  personality which exist within us, constantly battling for the spotlight of your mind, feeding off your acquiescence to their imposing forces. Beating like a drum at the sides of your skull. The mind is its own beautiful prisoner. Is it me being you or just you being me?
 

Isn't it ironic how the time is after us? As if it wants to be noticed. As it gives us a clue that the clock is ticking. Like it ever stopped. Beautifully crafted, always moving forward, always being looked up to. Even when someone tells you you're slow or wrong, you keep moving forward regardless. Why can't we beat time even though we are time just lost in time preparing for the time lost that we never found? Our physical bodies are trapped inside an ever-fluxing cosmos and yet still our existence is stressed.
 

Why do you fall so fast? Haven't you learned you would save yourself a whole lot of hurt by slowing down? You're falling so slow, you can feel time passing by. You're convinced you can fly. You can't hide it, you can't escape it, can't deny it. You can only let yourself fall, slow and completely incapable of anything but thought. Giving you a minute to read the stars, your limbs reaching for the faraway moon into the endless space called thought. Sinking within yourself, unable to speak, unable to comprehend your surroundings in front of your eyes.
 

You think there's a glitch in your mind, perhaps there's a common glitch in other humans minds too. But this glitch somehow seems to erase every lesson. Your silence, it tremble of a thousand shouts, quieted in restraint. My wordless gaze, a novel of your pain. Written with a fountain pen, atop the skin of your true face.
 

A smile of this face, but beyond this mask is nothing fake, a frown with tears flowing down, a heartbreak here and there, patches and bandages everywhere. But little do you know everyone has this, a mask of social lies, and a lot of cries. So next time in the mirror, you should try with no one near. Take it off and let yourself go from the prisons of deep chambers in the darkest times of all. Only you and the mirror will ever know, and the mirror will be what you look at when the mask had to go.



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