Filed under: thoughts
Somewhere between REMs I reach out to kiss various parts of your skin but realize it’s probably a bad idea. So I end up placing my lips against your body and inhale your epithelium. I’ll breathe without kissing, even if it’s not in my nature.
Filed under: change, communication, confession, friendship, happiness, hindsight, honesty, hope, life, love, lust, misunderstanding, relationships, relfections, thoughts, truth, women
Love is blind
But more than that
Love is senseless
Love
Or any varying level of romantic interest
Takes away anything
That may have made sense before
And makes you look like a
Senseless fool
‘What were you thinking?’
I wasn’t.
My senses had left me.
And now she has as well.
And the blurred vision,
Taste in many ways,
Sense of touch,
Auditory comprehension,
And more than anything
Thought processes
Are becoming clear.
I’m thinking again
And I’m thinking
That its about time
I stand among those deserving
My tall stance
And that
Is no where near
Those I’ve been standing with.
They say that when a cut itches it is ‘getting better’. This cut got better way before it itched.
Dayyyyyum
I said before that I’d do the time because there’s nothing I love more than doing the crime.
So now I’m doing the time, but I’m thinkin’ of breaking out of here soon. So not worth it…
xoxo
Jailbird.
Filed under: friends, happiness, honesty, life, love, relationships, thoughts, truth | Tags: affection, love, lust, women
“Holy shit. Did that really just happen?”
Before I had a chance to answer myself she bombarded me with even more affection, just of a different variety. She wrapped her arms around me, as if I was some sort of life-saving device lying around the massacre we had just created. Within minutes she was evidently asleep, as I whispered her name in a question form and got no reply. She rested her head on me and I watched her take in long, deep, cleansing breaths. With every breath I took her head moved up and down with my chest. It was almost as if every second or so her body levitated- but only as long as the inspiration. It seems now as if this is how she lives her entire life.
“Holy shit. Why can’t this happen again?”
Now I’m in my own bed and neither of us is going to sleep. We just lay. We lay and we talk or we don’t but it doesn’t matter. We are lying together and we don’t need to say how much the talking doesn’t matter. This time we breathe in sync, which I pointed out to her once and she was impressed. I love the idea of impressing her these days.
“Holy shit. Did that really just happen again?”
This time I was in a different bed, but I was treated just the same. Within minutes, yet again, I was supine, wide awake with a million questions on my head and yet again a woman on my chest. This time her breaths were short and shallow. I’m not going to say how that reflects other aspects of her life.
“How the fuck did I get here?”
As I watched her levitate and descend, I contemplated our very different paths that merged more so than crashed into the other. I couldn’t even say that I’d never imagined this happening before, because it happened so suddenly. I wasn’t even given the change to question or wonder where we’d take the other. So, I took her to the airport and closed the car door behind her assuming that it’d be the last time.
“Why the fuck can’t we be here?”
Our laying time was cut short by an intruder, but we didn’t change our intimate position drastically. After the intruder extruded we held on to the other for dear life... like before, except this time I was holding back. I inhaled her neck and was brought back to a time when this was allowed.
“How the fuck did I get here again?”
The short and shallow breaths were hard to keep up with, not dissimilar to the girl herself. Again, I couldn’t say that I never imagined this happening. This time; however, I couldn’t say that because I had imagined it happening. I had made this happen. I was the one to blame this time, but I really feel that it’s stuff like this that I’d be willing to take the blame for. So, I’ll plead guilty and do the time because, really, there’s nothing more I love than doing the crime.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
I replied with a kiss.
The truth was, I hadn’t missed him. Unlike a friend of mine who incredibly replied to a ‘do you love me’ question with a ‘I don’t know… maybe’, in that moment I couldn’t be quite so brutally honest. We danced as the music played and I kissed him often, but only when I thought people were looking. His friend awkwardly watched our masquerade, all while trying to find someone to do the same dance with. I smiled and wrapped my arms around him as often as I could. We intertwined our legs as our bodies swayed with the beat of the music. As if we had been lovers for years, I touched his chest just as often as he placed his hand on the back of my head as he kissed my forehead.
And then, like a cat that doesn’t want to be held, I squirmed away. As it turns out, no matter how cute they are, I still can’t be held back from being a social whore.
I left his ass and danced with several other people, all just as beautiful as the last.
I wonder sometimes when I will grow up.
