PROFOUND SINS

The man who is in love

"I admire the way her blond curls turn fizzy on a fresh summer beach, how it sticks to her dark red lipstick and she jerks her head back, laughing sweetly.
How she decorates her lips darker a shade of red, almost marron, on days her eyes look sad.
I hate it when she bites the inside of her lower lip just to calm her shaking voice because she doesn't want her friends to know the real reason behind the cuts on her hand. 
You can see tears rolling down her rosy cheeks as she watches a sad movie, trying nothing to act brave and unaffected for the only time.

She never digs her teeth on the top of her pencils neither does she aim paper planes at her best friend in midst of an boring history lectue rather, she holds her boyfriends hand loosely in hers, silently studying all those bruised knuckles and remembering the lines on his palm.

I adore little things she does, it may not be anything magnificent or extravagant but it's pure bliss to just watch her breathe the same air I do.

Learning tiny details about her makes me feel one step closer to the contracting void.

My friends say I stare at her, in my defense I don't intend to, it just happens, like the natural way my eye stucks at her everytime she's in the visible diameter. I love watching her. I wish to remember the details of her face when she's about to cry or throw up, so I have just the right amount of time to change into a clown's attire.

I want to remember that nervous smile when she's standing in the field, sun shining right on her head illuminating her big nose as she pulls onto her lower lip because it's her turn for the run and she hates running; Run baby.

You should see her when she's talking about things that fascinate her, things she hate but does not show. It tells no world theory, stops no wars but I'll keep doing it forever if I could for that's probably the only thing that never tiers or bores me.

"I know she feels nothing close to what I feel for her. Actually, she wouldn't even know my name as we're nothing but strangers who pass smiles to each other as a morning routine, rushing out the hallways. I want her to know about me. I want her. Damm, i want her bad. I wonder how wonderful it will be seeing her rebound my feelings but I also know I have leaped into her life very deep to realize I will never be the one for her. She can clash into my life and make it more beautiful but I will never be able to do the same for her.

She's beautifully destructive, she will let you settle in her heart to make you feel worthy and home, she will happily destroy her ownself just so your heart beats in time. Cutting the veins connecting her heart and then taping them to yours, so your heart never goes out of blood. That's the only destruction she can create.

She's hot when she walks in her leather skirt that ends mid thigh, she's wild when she jumps down the cliff in her blue bikini. She's so much, so much I fall for her everytime she twirls her hair around her finger.

It's like diving into an undiscovered ocean to find out it's the most dangerous you can ever come across. Now, you don't want to swim back to the shore for you're already into the deeper center, your legs hit on something solid, your brain tells you it's a minute long swim till you touch the shore. You wobble your body but the illusion of ground under your feet seems to drift off. You still feel like you're near the shore although the depth of the ocean seems to increase and you're just one step closer to infinity.
You might see stars in water and believe it, the water might fill your lungs with colors of life and you wouldn't be able to breathe for one can only drown in the ocean depths. There was no air in her epths, you just presumed.
You're this deep ocean I'm talking about in which I've got myself floating. I'm in so much love with you, I write about you so you can always stay with me in my words."

He folds the paper, might I add, the love letter he has written for a girl he's been seeing around. Putting it back in his jeans pocket, he looks me in the eye and smiles, that sad smile which never reaches his eyes.

He's been talking about a beautiful girl made of flawless skin who walks around our campus looking cool even in this chilling weather, he's been reading it from his memory like she was standing right Infront of him and all he wanted was to kiss her.

He's in love with this very beautiful girl and is talking to me poetry but all I can hear is his smile when he's engrossed describing her sharp features. My eyes are busy studying him, how he stands with one hand inside his pocket trying nothing to look that handsome. Those boots and tight jeans he's been wearing all day and those plum dry lips that shiver in the cold wind of December.
He turns away saying something I didn't catch and then does the things blur and rush out.
He's facing his back to me, clutching the bridge grail, blabbering about the girl he says he's in love with. I take a step toward him for i already miss his face, not like he noticed.

He's still going on and on and on about her and I just couldn't stop my legs from walking up to him, forcing him to look at me till his chest presses mine and he holds us together for if i take one more step, we'd fall off the bridge. So, I take the last step, I step on his boots and press my lips against his.
Yes, I kissed him for i wanted to kiss the man who is in love but not with me.

            ________________________

Okay, I'm just posting this rough draft and I'll be editing and adding on to it later. Honestly don't ask me why I'm uploading unsorted shit here, I just feel like doing it and no questions asked, I'm doing it.
Anyways, I hope you like even a little of this because I enjoyed working on this.

Also, appreciate other humans around you. Causally, pass on genuine smiles and pray for their welfare. It might not solve their shit but it'll sure make them feel better, maybe you too.

Love -
Ayushi.❤