Missing a You I Never Knew

You and I met too soon in this life to be anything but distant tale,
Lost among the battles and trials of a forgotten war.
Our story had been recorded times and times before,
Each ending slightly different and each battle fought for different reasons,
But every outcome was that of a love lost, heart broken, a better half vanished.

I miss the way we used to talk,
Hours and hours of meaningless conversation,
Unburdened by the feelings and chaos of a worrisome heart.
I miss the way you would talk to only me,
About things that never seemed important but were so much more,
When we were blinded by our innocence and a fascination of this rediscovered feeling.
I miss the smile that only I would see, missing you, who I would never know.
I miss the easy comfort I found in your presence,
Never worrying for too long about thing I couldn’t control, and I miss
The gestures and feelings I only entertained for you.

We had conquered this empire once before, maybe in another life,
But the times have changed and the battles have grown deadlier.
And for all our skills and armor and tactics,
We fell victim yet again to the surprises of guerilla warfare.
Our kings have been moved far too many times along this chess board,
Our chiefs could not have seen this coming, nor could our best warriors,
So all we have left are the fallen that refused to succumb to the battlefield,
And the few lucky that escaped deaths scythe.
But still, we continue to fight against a foe that will never give,
And both sides have grown ragged and tired from a constant front.

I miss the feelings we once shared,
The little things that faded until they were all but gone,
Have we gotten what we deserved? The rejection of a bond neglected for so long?
My heart wishes there could be more than what the map has laid out for us,
But the terrain is unpredictable and rough, fingers linked, but barely clasped,
So only skilled warriors chance everything to cross it,
But by the time they battle their way through, it has changed once again,
Leaving behind the brave souls that dared to take a chance.

My Timeless Memory

If tonight it all we have left, drink one more bottle of wine with me,
And lets dance under the light of a star filled sky,
With the moon following in our footsteps, pulled by gravity,
Holding each other for whatever we are worth at that moment.
As our hearts flutter in sync, in time, with the music of the night,
Let us not dwell on the sorrow of goodbyes and last impressions.
Forever seems so far away when you’re in my arms,
So lets stop the clock and hold our promises to the hour’s hand,
As it stalls a minute past eternity, lingering on the 12 o’clock hour.

I’ve only got a second until you fade in front of me,
And our timing had never been in sync with our hearts desires,
But we made the best of a fucked up game of chance,
Coming out with so much more than we could have hoped.
By now, time is wondering what we have stolen from it,
(Because time is only important when it’s running out)
And she is vengeful thing, holding onto dying wishes and stolen breaths.
So goodbye to you, my timeless memory,
A lover, a friend, an enemy torn from the depths of my heart,
This is our final song; know that we made the best of it, and
Maybe one day we can dance on the moon without the fear of gravity pulling us apart.

This Run Down Bar

Listen to the words I sing into the mic, sensual and desperate,
Feeling good and different, knowing it can’t be the alcohol warming your veins.
These words, they will capture you in a trance, letting you sway,
But don’t sway too far to one side,
Because than you will no longer be able to feel what I do.

Love is but a background noise, in this run down little bar,
First you are not sure what you hear,
Words mumbled and lyrics sung on a key to low to be heard the first time.
Then, you are curious, ears perked as you strain to listen,
Not knowing that once you’ve heard her the siren song,
You would never be able to go without.

It’s not like the relationships you watch through rose-colored lens,
Scripted and written with just enough tragedies to be romantic.
But I still crave the feeling I’ve never been able to define.

The chaos in the beauty of this thing called love was always hard to hear,
Few could ever amount to something as timeless and composed,
But, now, she has become an all-consuming thing,
Every thought, every action and everything is because of her,
And you struggle to find who you are without her,
(But you adore what she has turned you into,
Smart mouth and ever feeling and emotional to a fault).
So let’s stop thinking about the timing of it all.
And just know that we made the best out of what little time we had.

Oh, little girl

There once was a little girl, who the world thought of,
The one on every sympathy card, the one stashed under every bed,
She was someone’s everything, and everyone’s something,
Forever immortalized by the feelings of sinners and damned alike.
She longed for things outside of what fate had predestined,
But, the stars never aligned for just any mortal soul,
So she waited and contemplated, tracing those balls of light with her lips,
Never knowing that her fate had long been sealed on the promise of a stolen kiss.

Little girl, what happens to you when you’re no longer someone’s first choice?
Please, call the masses among the buried to rise up like a phoenix from the ashes,
Sign your name in blood on the dotted line,
For that’s the only truth you have left to your name.
Once you’ve committed you’ll never realize you’re chained,
Until you long for freedom beyond the bars
And the beauty of an open sky beyond the ground.

Little girl, sweet, delusion little girl,
Pray on your knees all you like, the angels have no ear for sinners,
Maybe if you tried a little harder, the winged folk would bless you with an audience,
But what kind of audience would be granted? Sweetie, that has yet to be determined,
So let’s force you to your knees once more,
After all, don’t sinners love to be buried under the pleasure of humiliation?

Little girl, were you always afraid to feel so deeply?
To act on the very things that forces their way into the darkest parts of your heart,
Perhaps that was your only way of coping with the horrors you’d be faced with,
Locking your heart up with the rest of that sensitive soul,
But, you know that those souls are the best served with false redemption,
So say goodbye to your demons, for Hell has no use for mortal made sins,
And sink to your knees once more, the best sight for the angels to see is a demon repenting for the sins that aren’t their own,
Let’s us hope, dear little girl, that your sacrifice proves worthy to the Gods above,
For I’ve never heard of a demon turned angel based of wishful thinking alone.

Oh, Well

There was a legend about the well in the garden,
Where the vines have grown past their heights,
And the flowers bloom all year round.
But this tale has not to do with nature,
But rather the tragedies that becomes it and its creations,

A fated pair of lovers would meet by this well for as long as could be remember,
It was said to bring luck and love to those who drank from the depths.
So years past, and the lovers could not seem to contain any happiness,
Greedy and eager, making more enemies than friends; too in love with themselves,
Until they fell down the brick hole, swallowed by the depth they once drank from.

A pair of sibling once drank from this well,
Their bond pushing them past the leaves and into the skies,
Yet their feet never seemed to leave the rocks and gravel below,
Until one brother climbed up over his other,
To mesmerized by the stars to watch as his other feel into the darken waters below.

I could tell you about the countless persons to drink from the waters of this well,
But none could tell you their downfall, eyes centered at the bottom of a ripple.
So I sit on top the well, fingers grazing the waters dripping from the bucket,
How could people be captured by the well and its serenity, and,
Not see the poison lingering from the vines and their deadly hold?

Something to Beg for

You want me on my hands and knees?
Begging and moaning for something any man could give me,
Yet you seem to think yours is a gift I would not find anywhere else.
Let me tell you something lover, a cock is a cock and yours is not too impressive,
The way you use it doesn’t make me writhe and gasp,
Nor does it make me beg on my knees.
So don’t be surprised to find my other lovers waiting,
Because they can fuck me just like you, uncaring and quick and in need of a lay,
And don’t let your ego get the best of us; it is only fact I spill,
Like the wetness you leave between my legs,
To be washed away in the morning, along with any trace of you.

You want me on my hands and knees?
Begging and moaning for something any man will give me?
Make my know you care, that I am more than a place to get your dick wet,
That I am not just another pair of tits to add to your list,
I am not just what my body has to offer,
My mind is not filled with way to please you and learn how to make you happy,
But maybe, it could be, if I knew you were someone worth caring for.
So you want me to beg? Give me something to beg for.

Untrained Wages in Love

Love is an emotion I never took the time to explore,
For she is something I cannot control or even restrain,
And if I cannot control her, how am I supposed to governor my reaction?
So Love is someone I had strayed from, never too close to the window of love,
Never letting her linger too long in my heart, never letting her seize thine eyes,
How can I give myself to you when I’m too afraid?
Letting people in had never been a strong point in my makeup,
And I have survived years without the need of another,
So who are you to make me give up my solitude?

Your touch is as familiar as a lover from another life,
Though I think that is where you should remain.
For I have been trapped in my eternity for quite some time,
You could only complicate the fragile cage I built around my heart.
And yet, the rattling you stirred has made me doubt all I had done to keep you away.

So yes, you invade my heart like snow upon the dirt,
Covering all that had been bruised, torn and stitched back together,
And like a stranger you come into my life unannounced.
Your presence remains longer then I wish,
And while I can think of all the reasons I want you gone,
It is the one reason I want you to stay that keeps my lips closed and heart open
For I was always curious about this emotion that wrote sonnets and waged wars,
This emotion that causes death all in the name of a feeling, a single touch,
That still writes timeless lyrics to songs that make you weep.
And for this curiosity I remain in rapture by the presence of a stranger,
For what’s love but the offer of another’s vulnerability, their deepest secrets?
Secrets hold dear to the sense of ones self, and I am prey to those sinful moments,
Those captured in the security of love and her truths,
And I will do my best do seal the fate of a new found fascination of love,
For it is she that will grate me the power to write sonnets and waged wars,
If only to prove she had power over me, despite my best defenses.

 

 

*Image found on pinterest.com*

Relapsed Addiction

There is nothing like a taboo waiting for you in your bedroom.
So keep my head down and bend me over,
Make me slowly lose my sanity over and over again,
And for you I will cry and sing praises meant only for the Gods to hear.
Are you waiting for your little princess to open her mouth?
Down on her hands and knees, moaning and begging for you?
My body is spent as I wait for you to finish,
Shuttering and shaking from the aftershocks of pleasure
Oh I know you aren’t worthy of my love or affection,
But boy, I know your body as well as the pleasure of my own.
And you can only keep a good girl waiting for so long,
Before she moves on to bigger and… sturdier things.
So make my body crave yours so I cannot find release anywhere else,
{Though your temptation can only lead to relapsed addiction.}
Oh sweetie, the things I want to do to you,
While I have you on your back, hips rising to meet mine,
Caught in the sweat and chaos of a primal reaction.
But for those things I want will have to wait,
And I let you climb inside my body with a promise of a newfound self,
But for all your size and strength, I cannot seem to find that paradise, or release.
So I scratch and scream, twisting my body and heart to accommodate your sin,
(Boy, I think I liked you better as a stranger, with no attachments or questions)
Yet as soon as these thoughts race across my mind,
You move your hips and cock a little bit harder,
Hitting that spot that makes me see nothing but the blinding darkness,
And just like that I sink back into you,
Letting you have your way as you push my down, my ass bare for your eyes,
Your eyes linger along my hips and cunt without any shame,
Knowing that my body reacts to yours in ways that light the tiniest of embers,
And burns all else who try to claim it.

 

 

To Take The Edge Off

 

“What The F*ck is Wrong With Me?” Part 6.


 

She’s wound so tight she’ll snap at anything or anyone.

She usually has more control on her emotions; she prides herself on self-discipline. But now, with all the stress she’s been under, anything and everything gets to her. So she drinks glass after glass, not caring that she’s been kicked out of this bar before. She’s had a long week—she needs this.

What she doesn’t need are the cops bargaining in, ruining her whiskey.

“Lucille Abrams, you’re under arrest for manslaughter in the first degree.” They slap the cuffs on her wrists.

They don’t let her finish her glass.

seeds of temptation

I entertain the thought of you,
And I feel like that makes me a bad person,
You shouldn’t be the one that makes me flutter,
And honestly, you have no hold over me,
But, maybe, it’s your idea, what you could mean,
Well, the idea of you that has me daydreaming,
Thinking of things differently, if you were the center of my focus,

But, I know that’s not right,
Not the one my heart bleeds for, sings for,
But my head, my thoughts drift towards you even when I don’t want them to,
And that makes me concerned,

Does that make me human, or a horrible person,
Or is it something we can’t even address,
A feeling with no name,
But so commonly felt,
That we all know the thing we think about as I write these words,
Humans with a taste for the temptation,
Now where have I heard that one before…?