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Tag Archives: Love

Summertime Sadness

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It was all smoke and mirrors!! It was all a game to him, you are yelling. Everyone is staring at us as we try to pick the perfect bottle of whiskey for the occasion. You never know what’s the perfect drink to cure a broken heart though. So hold a second as we pile different flavors into the cart.

 

Watch me forget his name. Watch me erase all memory of him, you scream as the alcohol limits slowly play a game of who’s stronger with your blood. The fact that we’ve had nothing to eat does nothing to help this unfair competition. So i pour the whiskey and you rant. I smoke and you rant some more.  I start drinking the moment you start breaking down and hold you as racking sobs have your body shaking. I can’t watch you like this sober. It is not fair to either of us.

 

It is like watching a child cut himself crawling on broken glass. It hurts me more than it hurts you. You delete the beautiful pictures of you and him on the phone. They are so many you give up after you realize that your hands are too tired and the light is hurting your eyes so you drop the phone into the glass of whiskey. You seem to have come to terms with the reality of the situation so you start smoking, the tears caked up on your face making you look so vulnerable.

 

I am still holding you and your head is cradled on my shoulder. We are seated on the balcony. It is a Friday night. Life is going on as usual. Most of the neighbors are asleep. The stars look so bright it almost sounds unfair that such a beautiful night could habor such a dark moment to you.

 

You go over the details leading up to the moment and we analyze it till we decide to give it the middle finger. Surely there’s more to life than moping around. So we go online and book a holiday for the weekend. This was supposed to be your wedding night after all.

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Posted by on March 31, 2017 in Muse, Uncategorized, Writing

 

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Please Tell Me

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What is it about you? You take my words and turn them around. You fling them back at me with so much hate and anger. What did I ever do to you, I wonder? You take out the love in every action and make it a personal vendetta even in the most harmless of things. You turn my smile into a frown so easy I have forgotten what it feels like to be genuinely happy.

What is it about you? You have me wound so tight, I’m ready to snap at any moment. When you curl up in bed, does it feel like you’ve accomplished your day’s mission when my feelings are trampled over. Does it make you feel big when you make me flinch emotionally? Does it make you happy to make me turn to ice just so you can point out how much of a cold person i am?

What is it about you? Were you always this way or did life just serve you the wrong lemons along the way? Have you always been this much of an emotional terrorist? I open my mouth but you hear me wrong. I say what I feel, but you turn it upside down. Love what have you done with my tongue, I open my mouth but you steer me wrong.

You ask why you can’t elicit a reaction from me. You drive me over the edge looking for a reaction. You want me to yell, break things, fling my arms at you, anything. Thing is, that part of me is numb for now. You gotta know, I’m feeling low. I just don’t have the energy to transform that into a reaction. And you were never patient enough to look for a response. Knee-jerk reactions are all you understand. Before you get to my level, I’ll sip my coffee from a distance and watch you unravel at the seams.

 
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Posted by on March 31, 2017 in Uncategorized, Writing

 

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Ice

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I don’t know where you go when you disappear

I don’t know what to do to bring you back

When you shut the world away

And bang the door on my face

 

You’re an emotional roller-coaster

The ups and downs all too familiar

I don’t know if I have the strength

Or the courage to take this ride

 

You are an open book

Written in braille

And I’m sorry I was never good

At deciphering ciphers

 

I try my best to be close

But when that ice-cube in your heart

Turns you cold

I realize I’m not ready to freeze

 

Your walls have been hard to climb

But somehow I got to the top

And just when I thought i was over the ledge

I found yet another layer

 

Why don’t you let me know

If this ride is worth my time?

If I should study braille

Or just shut this book and walk away?

 

Why don’t you let me know

If the ice in your veins

Will thaw into love

Hypothermia is real,luv

 
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Posted by on March 31, 2017 in Muse, Poetry, Uncategorized

 

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Desire, Sex and Cigarettes

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I can remember the exact moment when I fell in love with you. The moment I read your work and connected with you on another level. I had not met you then. And I sat there staring at the screen and thinking how foolish i was to be feeling this way when we were virtually strangers.

When i look back at it, I was always in love with your style of writing more than i was in love with you. And i looked forward to putting a face to the words that had stolen my soul. And i still haunt your site to find  new posts. And listen to the music we shared to find you between the lines.

And you beckon me with your toothy smile. And we are taking random pictures. Dressing up to go out. What’s some harmless flirting going to do after all, right? Except it is not harmless. And it turns out we crossed the line between flirting and wanting each other.

And we are holding each other. Laughing at each other’s jokes. There’s this funny TV series we watch together. And there are endless possibilities running through my mind.

I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back. We were in a bar seated across each other and you were smiling at me and our gazes couldn’t break. And the crowd faded as we danced suggestively.

And we stumble over each other. Am reaching for your lips and your breath is fast. Your eyes are glazed and my senses are peaked from the sweet scent of you. I don’t remember how we end in your room.  Your nipples are pushing against the fabric of your tee and I suck your left breast as you moan and push towards my mouth.

There is a certain choreography to our movements. It feels natural that I am here with you. This moment feels like it was waiting to happen. Your part my lips with your tongue, tasting of cigarettes and mint, and I’m breathless.  We make love then, with no strings attached. And it felt as good as i knew it would.

You are dancing with me and my eyes are closed. You pull a little closer and a part of my soul tugs with happiness. Your eyes have this mischevious look and i am smiling now. We burst out laughing because that seems to be the only way we communicate lately.

I like the way your breasts look in your tee and the way your eyes twinkle when you smile. Stay with me. I don’t want you to leave. I like you best when you are laughing without a care in the world. Put off the candle. I want to feel you with my senses ,just without my sight. Until you fall asleep. My nipples graze against yours and my whole body is throbbing naked desire and wanton want.

Your husky voice drives me over the edge. Over and over.

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on March 18, 2017 in Erotica, Muse, Uncategorized, Women

 

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Screw Love

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Don’t tell me about love. Don’t swear your undying devotion to me. Don’t promise me forever and always. I’ve heard that before.
And the script has always been the same. It has been a circle i can recite off the top of my head. Simple but outrageously boring.

I don’t know what it is about people that make them feel entitled to your everything the moment they declare their emotions with you. This alone makes me shudder at what marriage could look like. A simple relationship alone drives me crazy.

Because with me i know nothing about neat love. When i like someone, that’s my equivalent expression for love mark you, when i really like you…i do it with passion. It gets intense. Messy. I obsess over the emotion till it sickens me.

Because then i will want to kiss you as if my life depends on it. And in a way it does. I just want to sit and stare at you stupidly. The moment you are the object of my fancy, i somehow pity you. Because my desires are not neat

Love. I hate that word, love. It’s a word people toss around and use to blackmail others emotionally. I hate it when someone expects me to suddenly fit into their idea of what perfect love is about.

The way i see it, there is no perfection in love. It’s supposed to be messy. One moment you are looking at them with puppy eyes and the next moment you can cheerily strangle them. One minute you are holding their hand, and the next minute you want to gladly push them down the hill. One minute you are kissing, the next minute you are banging a door on their face

But the idea that love is perfect,That it should fit into a neat little box. That it shouldn’t have clutter. That’s the dumbest thing ever. It’s the most selfish thing ever.

For me you can either love me or leave me. I can never be owned by someone. I believe people should have their space to do what they enjoy. Space and support from their supposed loved ones. Am just saying.

I want a burning kind of desire. The type that leaves me breathless. The type that can’t be put in a box. Feelings that can’t be labelled. One without description. No, i don’t want the cliche idea. Movies and discos. No, i want to watch the sunset with you. Feel the cold set in and nestle next to you. Feel your pain and share in your joy.
Drown in your eyes. Catch my breath at your touch.
Well, i could wax poetic about it but the point is, i want raw, naked, genuine, burning desire.

Screw love.

 
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Posted by on February 12, 2015 in Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

 

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