It's only a face after all's said and done

At first a face is just a face. Sometimes perhaps even less than that. In this case it certainly was just a face. Not the thunderbolt it would become. Not my waking vision then. I'm sorry to say it is now.     
       Cute. It is a cute face. Even if i didn't see it right away. You know you've got it bad when the imperfections are the features you look forward to seeing. But then all the electrons are firing inside my brain to tell me they all collaborate to make perfection.
     
 Man if I have fallen for a single piece of skin it's that smooth crevice where the nose gently blends into the rest of the face. I could sleep right there. its my happy place when I am pissed drunk and it's all I can do to find my way to a bed.

        I don't know why I like girls in ponytails the way I do. I heard someone once say it reminds them of blowjobs. Maybe that's it. This hair, slipping slightly across the forehead, makes me restless. I could rattle out a million words on what it does to me and still never get close. The only thing I can say is that i am addicted in the way a heroin addict is. I can understand that it is not good for me at all but I can't stop myself when my body craves it.

Eyes that don't look back at me the way I look at them. They'll be enough to break my heart alone.

I'm stealing a quote from somewhere I don't even remember:

"The beginning and end of my life's happiness had been revealed to me"

Was this girls face like that for me? I would like to say yes but probably not. And I would like this face to be the only image left in the retina of my eye. I'm an addict           


 it's only a face after all's said and done. but maybe this was the best i ever seen...