The Room 22

I want your mouth anchored into mine.
Pick up where we left off, fall into me.
As you hold my waist, the limits of my skin are unclear.

Last night, I dreamt I was a princess. I was to marry someone. I had two choices: either surrender to the marriage planned for me or chose to fallow my heart.
If I did, fallow my heart, I would never be aloud to touch my husband, never be aloud to consume my marriage.
In my dream, I married for love and kissed my husband. In my dream they found out and sent people after me. I ran through woods and fell into the sea but I could not swim.
I woke up and read the first letter I had written, I decided to start over.

My wishes are laced with your eyes.
I long for you to stay, here.
I long to breathe.

The air in my room is thick and used, every night I wake up choking.
I am unsure of your intentions and find myself terrified of my own.
I should limit myself to your absence, let go. I repeat the same mistakes continuously.

I wish you could tell me details upon details about yourself. Secrets, I would hold onto, filling the gap of your absence with hopes that you could safe guard the best of me, while I fallow the worst.

I am drowning into everyone around me. I have lost track of real connections. I seem to spend so much time alone that I find myself trapped within my own defense mechanisms. I long for someone to free me from myself, swallow everything of me. I want to forget but I remain unsure of what I am escaping.

Lets make believe
Lets sail away to the middle of the ocean, coated by the sun.

Kiss me,