She

She's there, like a force in the dark.
My panties are wet and I want to slide my fingers under the elastic.
Time seems to be running terribly slow.
My thoughts are like syrupy lubricant running through my fingers.
I do not know what to do at this moment.
I am not myself, not the woman I once woke up as this morning.

She is there, hovering over me at the back of my shoulder.
I shiver once, in fear and arousal.
The cast of her breath on my neck causes goosebumps to rise on my flesh and my nipples to harden all at once.
I want her, but I dare not touch her.
If I do, I will melt into oblivion and lose my identity once again.
Who is she?Where does she come from? Why is she here?
These are the questions digging thier way past my lust.

The white walls were a blank canvas before.
Now they just remind me of the uniform prison that I am living in.
This place had so much promise, so much possibility. Now I am caught in a web of my own making.
She whispers to me every night, her song lulling me to sleep, seducing me.
Every morning I struggle to go on. To get out of bed, to catch up on the list of repeating mundane tasks.

She is there, at my back, waiting for me to fall into her willing embrace.
I am reluctant, because I cannot willingly go.
The strings that tie are the strings that bind.
I sit at the window, alone, tapping away, my own mournful song into the airy distance of beyond.

Her song is getting stronger everyday, more than a mere whisper now.
I am struck almost instantaneously, of the lure of her melodious voice.
She is a confident, smart, sexy woman. Everything that I am not.
I want her in more ways then words can describe.
She is wonderful and terrible.
She is everything I need, want, and fear.

She is everything I want to be.

So when I get into bed tonight, I will become She. And I - I will be free.