whoever said "my cup runneth over" didn't know what he was talking about. my cup is a the bottom of pagsanjan falls. you're in me always, rushing in fast, bouncing off my walls into everything else that surrounds me and back. i think i'm going to break.

i feel like a faucet whose washer broke. i was just sitting there rusting and you came to check if i was still running. when you turned the knob, something cracked inside me and now here i am...all exits forced open by the intensity of this. it can't stop. i'm here waiting for the water to run out, but it doesn't. instead i feel my threads are being loosened and you'll just wash me away with you. 

physics states that there is no such thing as perpetual motion. i have no idea whether we are destined for a standstill or a screeching halt, but i just hope i'll get to hold you (and perhaps even keep you still) in the middle of it. 

contain me. 

K