Maria Celli Art

Writing

I love Writing

My passion will reveal itself

I want you to taste me like I’m your last meal. My passion will explode across your face like the first breezy day in September. I want you to feel what I feel. I wish for when you are not being touched by me to become the only time that you are holding your breath. Because you are waiting for my touch to return once more. I want to be ever ounce of evil that you have ever known that enraptures your whole being and makes you feel a thrill. A feeling that vibrates deep in your body deeper than the lowest part of the sea floor. You wish I was a good person that’s what your brain tells you and you want to believe it I know you do. It puts false versions of me in front of your eyes because you don’t want to see any different. I don’t blame you; nobody wants to see the just evil side. We’re human we want to believe that we can do better, be better. Even if past the dark abyss of my empty brown pupils shed a darkness that can’t belong to contained species. A black whole and a small circle that the light has an issue shining through. It isn’t the evil, no not at all. It’s the love that is so strong that not even the most insane minded can withstand its strength. I love you with the wrinkles on my face. Along, with all of the hairs on my arm that I keep there in case I get cold in the winter. I am a star that comes out in the dark night that helps to illuminate the sky. The sky we both live under. I am here because of you and you are placed here because of me. I can’t listen to your voice without feeling the pain in your tone. The pain of somebody that wants’ happiness so badly that they are willing to sacrifice anything to feel it. To feel that jolt inside of your neck that tears up your insides and goes through your body to produce that compelling smile that you let teeter on your face.