In the realm of your mentions,
I often find myself trapped in the complicated
dance of the friend zone, where boundaries
blur and desires ignite.

It is in this contradictory space that I feel
compelled to express my thoughts about your mentions:
the captivating allure of your flowing waves,
so enchanting in their beautiful movement,
it has this irresistible magnetic pull.
Each gentle touch from your lips, like a heavenly elixir,
envelops my senses in a delicate yet intoxicating flavor,
leaving me wanting more.

In the midst of these tangled emotions,
I search for the perfect words, longing to express
my deepest desires that lie dormant within me.
It is a delicate balancing act, where my words weave
a tapestry of passion and longing, intricately
intertwined with yours.

In my imagination, I hold onto the image of your
graceful neck, a natural masterpiece of elegance,
as I yearn to run my fingers along its curves,
savoring the tactile sensation that only you can provide.
And your *******, a source of sweet nectar like no other,
tempt me to call you honey, for in your presence, I become
a fervent bee, desperate to leave a lasting mark on your skin, surrendering to the insatiable hunger that consumes me.

Awakening the dormant beast within me
is effortless in your presence, as I battle the resistance
that arises within the confines of my jeans,
A silent testament to the fiery desire that burns within me.
Guided by instinct, my lips explore the paths that lead
to the core of your being, seeking the hidden treasures that
reside within the depths of your sacred temple.

Each touch, each exploration, holds the promise of uncharted territories, dormant passions waiting to be unleashed.
And with each longing gaze, it seems I have revealed
the pirate that resides in my eyes, setting sail a fleet of ships,
fueled by an insatiable hunger that yearns to consume you completely, like the meeting of two forces.

Abandoned, the dreams unspoken,
of a brilliant mind, forsaken in the
depths of despair and solitude.

A tale so grand, built on deceit,
with each step forward met by stumbling blocks
and shadowy whispers of doubt.
Success, like a towering mountain,
stood within reach, yet remained elusive
and incomplete, leaving a taste of bitter
disappointment on the tip of the tongue.

The tongue itself, a rope of words,
intricately woven with grace, possessed the
power to bind souls together in its sweet embrace,
forging connections that could withstand the test of time.
Like a skilled puppeteer, it guided conversations
and shaped relationships, allowing the exchange
of ideas and the expression of deep emotions.

And amidst the silence of unspoken dreams,
the whispers of unfulfilled potential, the tongue
held the key to unlocking hidden truths and
unspoken desires, bridging the gap between
the heart's desires and the outside world.

In its magical dance of words, it revealed both
the vulnerability and strength of the human spirit,
weaving a tapestry of stories and experiences that
echoed through the ages.

As I stood in my room, a mysterious door materialized before my eyes. Its black surface seemed to beckon me, promising an adventure beyond my wildest dreams. Intrigued by the unknown, my young and curious self couldn't resist the temptation. With a surge of excitement, I stepped through the door, leaving the familiarity of my room behind.

To my astonishment, I found myself transported to a lush and jungle-like world. The air was thick with humidity, and the vibrant green foliage surrounded me on all sides. As I ventured deeper into this enchanting realm, my senses were overwhelmed by the symphony of exotic sounds and the earthy scent of nature.

Lost in the beauty of this new world, I failed to notice the intricate spiderweb that lay in my path. Before I knew it, I was entangled in its sticky embrace. Panic surged through me as I realized the danger I was in. If the web was this colossal, what monstrous creature had spun it?

Suddenly, a giant black widow spider emerged from the shadows. Its eight beady eyes fixated on me, hunger gleaming in its gaze. Fear gripped my heart, but I refused to succumb to its predatory intentions. Summoning every ounce of strength, I fought against the silken threads that bound me.

With a burst of determination, I managed to break free from the spider's web. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I sprinted towards the door, desperate to escape the clutches of the venomous arachnid. The sound of the spider's screeching pursuit echoed in my ears, urging me to run faster.

Finally, I reached the door just in the nick of time. As I attempted to slam it shut, the spider lunged forward, attempting to force its way through. With all my might, I pushed back, narrowly avoiding its venomous fangs scratching my arm.

Relief washed over me as I successfully closed the door, sealing the spider and its treacherous world behind me. But my heart still raced with the intensity of the encounter. I knew I had to share this extraordinary tale with someone, so I eagerly awaited my mother's return from work.

As her car pulled into the driveway, I rushed to meet her, eager to recount the events that had unfolded. However, to my dismay, she dismissed my story as a figment of my imagination. Determined to prove the truth, I led her to my room, guiding her towards the mysterious door. But as we entered my room, the door vanished just as mysteriously as it had materialized.

As I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for fabricating the details of my supposed escapade. My mother, of course, didn't hold back in expressing her disappointment, scolding me for my dishonesty. Left alone with my thoughts, I couldn't help but question the authenticity of the entire experience. Was it all just a figment of my imagination? Despite my doubts, one thing was undeniable - the scratch on my arm. It served as a tangible reminder that something had indeed transpired. As I examined it closely, a sense of unease washed over me. The venom from whatever had caused the scratch was slowly taking effect, and I couldn't help but wonder what consequences awaited me.

In the realm of dreams, where magic resides,
Lies a tale of love, where desire abides.
With purple wings, untouched by time's kiss,
A fairy's enchantment, a man couldn't resist.
Whispers of an enchanted forest, they say,
Tell the story of a love, so small yet so fey.

He succumbed to the enchantment of a fairy's charm,
As their love, though seemingly insignificant to the world,
Was a flame that burned brightly in their hearts.
It was a love so pure and genuine, yet confined
to the realms of fantasy.

I remember you like a beautiful poem,
and I'm still searching for the perfect words
To add another verse to our story.
Each touch of your skin inspires me
to create something even more enchanting.

As I gaze upon you, tears streaming down your face,
I see a reflection of myself witnessing your sorrow,
It's as if your eyes shoot bullets of pure pain
And it's in this moment, I feel utterly useless,
like a needle without a sharp point, trying to
pierce your skin one last time.

Yet, despite our shared agony,
we are both numb to anything except
the hurtful words spoken by our loved ones.

My eyes, immortal and wise, yearn for
a life beyond the limits of mortality,
I desire wealth as time slowly passes, reminding
me of its monotonous nature.
In my imagination, I lead a more fulfilling existence,
However, I cannot imagine myself as the one
who will ever live out those dreams.
The sacrifices I have made will lay the groundwork
for the success that will support my loved ones.

Above all, I am someone who prioritizes others
over myself. They are my first thought, the beat
of my heart, and the recipients of my prayers
as time goes on.

In the depths of my longing, I find comfort
in the idea of transcendence.
In my mind, I envision a world where our sorrows
are fleeting moments in an eternity of joy and fulfillment.

I yearn for the day when your tears of anguish
turn into tears of laughter, when the burden of
our pain is lifted and replaced with a lightness of being.
This vision drives me forward, even in moments
of complete futility, like that needle searching for
purpose without a sharp point.

But as I dream of a life beyond my reach,
I cannot ignore the fact that I am not the main character.
I feel like that needle hidden in a haystack,
trying to find itself; a strong desire to find out
who I really am.

The days of young,
when the night starts to
kiss the sun.

An explosive portrait I tend
to see,— brushstrokes of orange clouds
Sprinkles of the hues of blue in the
pockets filled with a sky of dreams,

       A perfect scene before I go to sleep.