His overpowering, awkward masculine scent would throw me off the tracks occasionally. It meant that now manhood was his forte, his strength and that I have found my Achilles' heel.
I wondered if they knew, they were battling each other. On one side of the ring, was a familiar, but not always trusted, figure. On the other, a novel symbol of sheer, elusive hope.
So while my bones and nerves ache and twist (bones ache and nerves twist), I will be called morose, and will most likely feel so. Sticky, sweet things will alter my environment but I should have known my heart will resist alterations. My damned perceptions and deviant thoughts will remain disguised. Fuck.
Sorry. My head's not quite right yet. Why am I apologizing to you?
My stomach, my guts are twisting and turning, while my food churns and my blood simmers. Not boiling, it doesn't boil these days and it may or may not be a good sign. My head is in a mess and my words don't flow like they used to because my fingers have forgotten the keys and buttons I've always liked to remember. Fuck.
