UGH! why do I bother? whats in it for me? Why do I not just consent with myself to remove his sn from my buddylist, stay out of JCPenny's and just freaking forget about him? Why do I read his blog, full of anything but me, and if I am in there it's bad, or worse, passive? WHY DO I BOTHER???
I know nothing is ever going to change and, if I listened to him, it would be all my fault, but I just can't help but try.So I love and I can't let go. So what? Everytime I talk to him, I want to just call out to him, I want to grab on to him and tell him I'm not letting go until a monkey comes and pounds on my head with an arabian coconut. But I don't. Because I have atleast consented not to bother. So instead I DO NOTHING. I talk and I sit and I wait and I wonder, but I don't DO ANYTHING. I don't forget, I don't move on, I don't think rationally.... Whats the point of having a heart if all it does is get broken and stay that way?
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Welcome. If you want truth, you just passed it. This is Idealism.
Whispers of Temptation
I, much concerned with life
Saw the skull beneath the skin
And lustful creatures all around
Lean forward with lips full and grin.
Dead brown roots instead of balls
Drain the attention of wandering eyes
He knew my rambuncitious thoughts
Called in by lusts and luxeries.
He, I guessed, was a hands-on learner
Who could control not his fervor
To seize.
And force.
And dictate.
Calmed by nothing but that which penetrates
His flesh knew not patience,
His hand an expert beyond experience,
My body not yet a temple,
And I, quickly lead by harsh desires.
* * *
Summer was nice : The extreme heat
Gave way to naked skin
For short, but sweet unknown release
Giving fruitless promises of bliss.
From a chaise lounge, One can see a world.
Observing, planning, asserting.
Scheming.
Mouth-watering.
From which he pounced; and with quick declaration.
"I lust for you"
A force on my subtlty.
Even the slightest hint
Aroused a deeper cry
For flames that danced between
To keep the empty warm.
On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur, l'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.- Antoine de Saint-Exupery, Le Petit Prince
Writing Baltimore.
Welcome. If you want truth, you just passed it. This is Idealism.
Me, Playing Poet.
Whispers of Temptation
I, much concerned with life
Saw the skull beneath the skin
And lustful creatures all around
Lean forward with lips full and grin.
Dead brown roots instead of balls
Drain the attention of wandering eyes
He knew my rambuncitious thoughts
Called in by lusts and luxeries.
He, I guessed, was a hands-on learner
Who could control not his fervor
To seize.
And force.
And dictate.
Calmed by nothing but that which penetrates
His flesh knew not patience,
His hand an expert beyond experience,
My body not yet a temple,
And I, quickly lead by harsh desires.
* * *
Summer was nice : The extreme heat
Gave way to naked skin
For short, but sweet unknown release
Giving fruitless promises of bliss.
From a chaise lounge, One can see a world.
Observing, planning, asserting.
Scheming.
Mouth-watering.
From which he pounced; and with quick declaration.
"I lust for you"
A force on my subtlty.
Even the slightest hint
Aroused a deeper cry
For flames that danced between
To keep the empty warm.
Labels
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Appearance should not be mistaken for Truth...
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2003
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September
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September
(11)
Quelque chose que j'épargne juste pour vous.
- Louise
- Something more, a little less, and just all around satisfying. A small lyrical, satirical, heart felt, heart melt with a cherry on top for you and your mom.
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