Tranquil:
You make me so angry sometimes, and I can feel the poison of this feeling coursing throughout my entire being. Especially when you touch me. A bump on the shoulder. A kick to the shins. Or an ungentle kiss.
It all pisses me off so much. You hair makes me angry, your face makes me angry, the way you walk makes me angry, the way you smirk, thumb your nose at me, tilt your chin up, taunt my friends, hold me, stroke me, bite me; it's all simply infuriating. Even just thinking about you doing these things, when you are nowhere near me, causes my heart to drum and my palms to sweat. It causes me to swallow constantly, bite my lips, chew the flesh on the inside of my cheeks, and plod down the streets of this dim town with feet that spew my hatred and anger into the ground upon which I trod.
I clench my hands, digging my nails into them, imagining your gloating face, with that overly confident smirk. That charismatic smirk. I imagine kicking you. I imagine spitting down at you for making me feel so strongly about you, in a way that I have never even come close to feeling about anyone else. I imagine you down on the ground, and when Imaginary You attempts to stand up out of the puddle of your own damaged pride, I take my foot and roughly push you back into it. Then, in my fantasies, I am the one gloating - instead of you - with your very own smirk upon my face.
It is times like these when I realize how alike we almost are.
It is times like these when I completely loathe myself for laying down in a bed with you and sharing the warmth of our bodies. It is times like these that make me feel sick for kissing you and tenderly caressing your tongue with my own; passionately exploring the mouth that creates that awful smirk I hate so much.
Then there are other times.
Those times when you think no one is watching and you look up into the clouds and take those deep, shuddering breaths because you know that time is passing you by too quickly, and all the memories of your youth will fade from your mind. When you watch the leaves on the tree branches stir in the breeze and contemplate what you mean to anyone, and if you will ever be an important factor in the way the world will slowly develop. Times when your eyes shine with pent up tears, and you smile that melancholy smile.
Those are the times when I realize just how beautiful you are.
My anger melts away.
I inhale the sweet summer air of Twilight town and I sit right next to you on the grass in that small clearing in the woods that we used to come to when we wanted to be alone. Even now I say nothing.
I take your hand.
You entwine your fingers in mine. Your hands are strong, but cold, and mine are smaller but warm.
That melancholy smile doesn't leave your face as you look straight into my eyes. You, the source of my anger and frustration. The source of my love and passion, and purpose.
Sometimes, you piss me off so much.
And yet, with you...I feel...
Tranquil.