George Berkley

Esse est percepi. 

To be is to be perceived.

David Di Pierro

 "You're not built to be someone's commercial break. You're the whole show. "

Franz Kafka

If a million love you, I am one of them.

If one loves you, it is me.

If no one loves you, then know that I am dead.

Pieces - Des Rocs

 "Taking apart all your limbs until there's nothing left but pieces. Tell me you know what you're doing. That you know how to fix this."

Love is the Death of Peace of Mind

When she came to, she felt enveloped by a strange unfamiliar warmth that made her heart ache. Something holding her still for the first time in years. She only held herself and never this still, this calm, this safe. But she knew it wasn't meant to last. At least not right now. 

It must be 90 degrees under these blankets with his skin seeming to be trying to merge into hers, making her sticky and slick and uncomfortable. The condensation lubricates an easy escape from his faded woodsy musk filled hold. 

The scent will keep her shackled well until she's in her car,
until she's in her house,
until she's disrobed,
until she's stepping into the shower to scrub away the heartache that longs for that envelopment for the rest of her life. And again, and again, she'll torture herself with the memory of what could be. She'll takes one last inhale of his scent on her laundry before wringing and tumbling him into her familiar N26 safe rose scented detergent. 

She began pulling her pants on, one leg silently navigating down the length followed by the next.
Belt threatening to set the alarm off on her getaway as it clinks against the bedpost beneath. 

Breath held,
Muscles frozen,

His gentle breathing is unfazed as her bra is secured from under his piled jeans. T-shirt over her wild hair. She scans for her keys. The last piece in her Houdini act.

Her pupils are huge, heart pounding desperate like a cornered gazelle. The unfamiliar foliage of his landscape, dark emerald duvet, emptied to just the cover, crumpled lazily over the soft rising and falling of this sleeping wolf's imminent devastation. 

To feelings,
To emotions,
To fate similar to death,
To be eaten alive.

She spots and pulls her keys quietly into her hand and moving toward the home stretch to escape his looming threat to her peace of mind.

The floorboards defy her.
Creaking.
Groaning.
A moment of terror entombs her in the reality she meant to elude.

"Heyyy." voice deep, gravelly with sleep. "Where'd you go?" cool and unfaltering. Despite the electric shock its induced inside of her.

"Home... that's what people are supposed to do when... they.. do this, right?"
That was rhetorical, she regretted that she let herself sound so meek. Was she buckling already?

His sleepy lashes loosen the locks releasing those eyes that ensnared and lured her into this trap.
Sitting up on his elbows, his brown eyes scanned her over, inquisitively.

"Supposed to do?" The silence of his echo smothering her.

"Y-yeah..." hands falling to her side in surrender.

"Come over here and tell me what you mean," his body reclining back down and over to clear the entryway back into the encagement. "Supposed to?"

Like Stockholm Syndrome, her body begins to turn and motion takes over her captive feet. The bed a hungry black hole spaghettifying her over its event horizon capturing her.

"Yeah, a-aren't you supposed to leave in the morning? So, you know, so you don't come off... I don't know..." his warm hand takes hers as she meets the entrance of the blanket's maw. Sheets pulled back exposing the void she'll be thrown into as he guides her gently back into his embrace.

His warmth immediately goes to work, sabotaging her structural supports, his cedar and musk, plugging dynamite. Ready to drive the plug down to demolish her walls. 

"Needy or clingy, I guess?" her words muted to soft kiss on her forehead.
C4 for additional firepower.

"You can be needy with me,"
Barrels of TNT at her vault doors
"You can be clingy, too"
Detonating cable connects and organizes.

"I don't care what 'they' say we're 'supposed' to do. I just want to stay here with you for a while. Then make you something to eat if that's cool." 

She smiles, accepting the inevitable. "I'd like that."

"Good. So stay here with me." 

And just like that,
Devastation's done.
TNT erupts.
Dynamite explodes.
Jackhammer topples her foundation.

A sheep lodged gently in the big bad wolf's snare.
And his heart pounding just as hard as her...

Convincing her to let herself be eaten.
Because being in love is a form of blunt-force trauma,
and she is concussed with love for him.

Kierkegaard

 "Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom."

Ministry of Time

 "I laid on the floor of the gray room of my skull."

Ministry of Time

"Everything that has ever been could have been prevented and none of it was. The only thing you can mend is the future."