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 

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