A month from now i will barely remember his name. i won't think about how he tastes or how his body moves above mine. A month from now i would have replaced him with a man whose face rivals his and whose tongue knows how I like my **** teased. A month from now his existence will mean nothing but a month before that his existence means something.

I don't like this.. I don't want this... Waiting on your call, jumping for your text, craving your attention... Its not me and I don't want it... Please leave or know your place.

Open and alone.
Open and Lost.
Open and afraid.

It's not that I am afraid of commitment.... It's committing  to the wrong person, that scares me.

its so deep and so black and for once, for once, I can't breathe in it.

Its funny how I love poetry and inhale books and yet I don't believe in the power of words.                    Maybe its because so many words have been spoken to me and yet none have been acted on.

He was too young to love me the way I needed him too... I was too blind to see this.