Spastic Thinking Poem by Audrey O'shea

He stands so close, I can smell his breath
My cheeks flame the color of rose, to be cool I try my best. He stalls, like our conversation has ended, but he doesn't move and I almost fall, feeling heady and winded. I wanna lean in, but I know I mustn't, we're so close I could almost do it, oh the adrenaline rush. The unknown, the mystery, the sins, my misery. You'd never guess, my surface is a bubbly mess, so happy, she's so happy, illusion I confess. Oh but I want it, the dreams of a fantastical world, as I Center and sit, I breathe as the intoxication of it swirls. My mind, oh it's a complicated place, to unwind and unravel, to a faceless face. Something speaks to me, without words at all, it's vibes and feelings, over my skin it crawls. I can't unfeel it, it's already there, it's hard to explain; hard to admit, but I trust that feeling, into its faceless face I stare. I'm not completely certain, but maybe it's the universe, all the energy it could possibly be workin, to me; through me as I curse. I don't know what's the purpose of these signs, I've been very receptive, I'm plunging deeper in completely blind, to know; oh what I wouldn't give.