I didn’t mean for this to happen.

I didn’t mean to let your smile break through my calculated defenses.  I didn’t mean to double-take each time you entered the room.  I didn’t mean to lean so close in the subway, using the rush hour as an excuse to inhale your scent.  I knew it even then, knew that if you would oblige my foolish lust, I would melt into you.

“I’m stressed but you’re freestyle.  I’m overworked but I’m undersexed…”

But this would not do.  Denial was the gameplan:  denial of self, and denial of others.   Best safety lies in fear.  Fearful avoidance.  But with fear comes a lifelessness, a sort of emotional death.  And death never becomes me, no matter how much I like to argue the contrary for morbid enjoyment.

“This was so unexpected.  I didn’t mean to get caught…”

But I was.  I was snared in your trap from moment one, wasn’t I?  Did I really stand a chance, in the end?  For all of my inner resolve, for all of my walls, you found a way to penetrate them.  I came undone the moment your hand connected with my flesh.

“Like an animal, you’re moving over me…  “

The hammering, it fills my head, my heart and body a symphony.  Senses overload in your presence, your scent intoxicating, your skin soft beneath the grazing touch of my fingertips.  I hear nothing else, see nothing else.

“I knew you were mine for the taking.  Your eyes light up when I walk in the room…”

Your own hands seem equally drawn, moths to the flame you’ve ignited within me.  Perhaps you are captured, too.  Has my web woven about you?  Do my restraints breed discomfort?

Is it the kind that you like?

Day Sixty-Nine:  Hammering In My Head – Garbage