The Beauty on the Bus
Everyday I ride the bus
I sit behind a petite blonde girl
Her freshly straightened hair glistens in the sunlight through tinted windows
And her perfume is breath taking, some sort of magical peach aroma
It is all that I desire
I get the same impulsive urge
It scratches at my throat
It shivers in my spine
It causes goosebumps on my skin
It fills my stomach with butterflies
A burning propensity
To reach forward
Wrap my arms around her
And choke the perfection out of her
Squeeze the past resemblence from her unconcious body
Compress her lungs until her entire body purples over
Only then will I be satisfied