haunted in the dead of night down in the depths of my unconcious mind i plot it out how i come how i'll go how i'll complete it the mission my sights are locked on you And i'll take a swing I like to have my way now watch out here I come I spin you on your head grab your waiste make you dizzy with desire hit you up with a shot of disorienting passion watch out here i come I'll take you down Kiss your lips with my poison Leaving you hanging As i walk away You watch I'm comi
I don't think we should mock what it was like to love at fifteen. I think that if we could all love in that way (perpetually and honestly and with so much passion that we could feel ourselves ready to burst with it) then this place would be so much happier. We'd be more fulfilled and so sure, so positive- this is the one. This is the one to complete me. And we wouldn't worry about details or the future or heartbreaks to come: just the time that is now. A time that is perpetually Summer and brimming with nostalgia. Loving at fifteen is loving young and loving "forever", and it's something I regret we grow out of.
I touched your skin today; a narcissistic red, a secret to success that your blush gave away Your glossy smile bounced around me; an intolerable grace, an exhalation possessed by your nagging perfection-- I wish I could be a balloon.