I feel you down my throat leaving a trail of flames. The heat spreads from my innermost to the tips of me. Burning in a good way.
You leave me dizzy, spinning, wanting more. You make all pain inside of me seem as if a subtle sore. You are my pacifier. You're the passion of my desire. I wouldn't be exagerating to say that I need you. I NEED you more than the shallow air I breathe. The shallow air that is kidnapped from my lungs as soon as I spy your face. It's ridiculous and it's never happened before. This feeling is controlling the uncontrollable. It's taming the wild mustang of discipline that I have. It brings out the side of me that I had tried so hard to bury in a grave.
All my efforts are futile when I see you smile. That precious smile that a camera could not capture. That movement of the lips that contains all my rational thoughts and logic, leaving me dumbfounded in front of you. You are my intoxication. My love.
I wish so hard for it to be that lovely day. Thursday. Oh Thursday, why has it taken me until today to realize how spectacular you really are? You're the most beautiful day of the week. All other days pale in comparison to the radiance of your name. Thursday. Thursday. I can't stop thinking about you. I say your name in my mind during all the other days. I must spend exactly 24 hours with each of you, but I'm with you always in my mind. It almost feels like an affair. Thursday, my love, you contain my love. I see him from 3:30 to 4:30 on Thursdays. How splendid!

Thursday! How could you? How COULD you?!
I saw him. I saw him with a her. I saw him with a She doing nothing wrong, but nothing right. Pain swelling through, I feel a need to escape. I need to run out. I don't care if I cause a scene. My blood is boiling in my throat. I have to scream. I have to cry. I have to be inconspicuous. I have to tell someone. I have to keep this a secret. I have to get revenge. I have to die. I have to ignore it. I have to be better than her. I have to, I have to. Oh! It's time to leave. I have to ditch this explosion of emotions and try to forget everything. I must forget the way he smiled, the way he looked at me that left me feeling exposed to the world, but not caring because I was ready. His eyes had pulled me up and strengthened me to fight anything, and everything that dare try to stop me. His eyes now leave me a collapsed heart. Everything is mechanical. My movements are not mine. They are a stranger's. I am putting myself on automatic and leaving to sulk.
It stings to know that you were inches from my grasp only a few days ago, and now all I have left to remember you by is the ghostly haunting of those eyes. Those eyes that are cryptic in meaning, both awesome and awful, and the pure definition of joy.