You brought it up jokingly, thought it wouldn’t hurt
It was just an aside, nothing big
I guess you don’t know why and what it meant
It’s just a hole you’ll continue to dig
I laughed it off cause that’s what I do
I could tell that you were relieved
I sat there, mind buzzing, going insane
You were fine because you were freed
Free to flirt and not feel pain
Free to act stupid and not seem insane
Free to not ruin your so-called plans
Free to make a 3rd of a crush your man
Of course there’s jealousy, I found him first
Obviously we didn’t get involved
I still wonder about that moment and shame
It’s called respect until his problems are solved
They say. . .
Lets set her up, lets play a game
Were getting our fix
Everything’s the same
Oh she’ll be fine
It’s nothing new
We’ll take them all
And leave her a few
It’s not a game anymore; I’m starting to want
Why is that so hard to conceive?
It’s not so much of an aside my friend, it’s now becoming a need.
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:33 PM UTC
Love: to be said but unspoken
A deep guttural influence over your mind’s endless power
A gift to be hermetically sealed, yet leaking lust whenever possible
A moment where fusion of energy is felt in broad daylight with no scientific explanation
A muddy sense of belonging and purpose that undulates entirely
Go on, give in.
It’s the call to the question that is answered with “this is why you’re made”
Your smile creates a double with lips and lids, light and laughter
Can I ask you how this encompasses atheism?
You’re gorgeous and talented and our opposite beings just want the one thing that’s unexplainable . . .
Once again, how doest that coincide with atheism? Question that.
But really, I can feel your truth and complete love
I just worry because you need to love yourself and believe
You can’t give it all to me.
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:31 PM UTC
I miss you.
The one you’re hiding,
The one you’re afraid of
Because of your:
Power
Beauty
Strength
Knowing and
Loving
It’s like if you have it all
You can’t show it all
You can’t flaunt it . . . Remember that
Remember that Summer,
“ Oh it’s so hard to be pretty!”
That’s so subjective anyway
And yet again it shouldn’t matter but . . .
If you are capsizing naturally and lowering yourself to become decent,
You still have to prove you’re capable
Which I did
But then there are the looks
Like “Who does she think she is”
“She’s wrong”
“Really? What a fake.”
Leave me alone . . . please . . .
Just let me be.
Accept it.
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:28 PM UTC
Remember that time of the angry anxious skittles. They were scattered across the white playing field of keys; with all those ******* letters that could spell anything they wanted. Kind of like my mind. What was yours spelling? Lets get food. Real food. Mine was more along the lines of kiss me please, or did that already happen. Those ******* skittles, which I hate the word, embodied our beings. The green jealousy of what those letters could spell. The angry red of which I wanted to do and be. The ******* orange, my fiery passion to jump and collide and the keys to spell NOW and LUST. The stupid yellow that would spell LOVE because that’s what it was. It just wasn’t bright enough against that ******* computer to stand out; to scream, “TAKE ME NOW or else you’ll be living your life waiting.”
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:20 PM UTC