Who was he to you? The one with the track jacket and Iphone 6s. The one you swore was a step above me while we were dating and the one you swore wasn’t a problem while we were together.
Why did you leave me when my mind was on the verge of self-destruction? I always gave you the closeness you needed when you were on the edge of oblivion, couldn’t your selfish *** have backed me when I needed it most?
If what we had wasn’t love, what was it? There’s no way to tell you how much I feel you were a waste of time. The image of your body under mine sends a chill of intimacy imitation to my brain that is promptly shot down like black kids on white streets.
When the dumpster in you begins to realize how much trash it literally contains, will you please lose my number? I lost everything because of a guy with a better body and a better phone. I can’t tell if you’re serious or not, but regardless, when things don’t go your way, don’t pick up the phone your parents bought and dial my digits. I’m going to show you just how many of the ***** I lost about your emotion.
Why did it take me so long to realize this? Day upon day, month upon month, I was lonely and you pat me on my shoulder to tell me I’m being a drama queen. I forgot my emotion and am publicly blank, so I hope you got your “tall dark and handsome” boyfriend that you always wanted.

From the depths of the ocean in your body, I always tend to find the geysers of satisfaction.
Breaking your body down in ways that make the profession of love minor to us both.
When we speak, the words flow like waterfalls that chip away the ice around your frozen soul and bring the heat of a thousand ages under frost now freed of the gymnophoria, the mental ******* that society does to it.
You are opened.
My cocoa skinned Cinderella, chocolate to the taste and caramel to the senses.
You are my forbidden treat that I indulge in with inconsistency, and when I leave, you always melt into the hands of evil habit.
Tears in the eyes of which I had only known happiness, story upon story uncovered on your emotion and the only thing I could do is ****** comfort you with the sailing a sad ocean.
I never did tell you I loved you, and now I regret it.
Maybe if I would’ve said that word, that rope wouldn’t have ended around your neck.
Maybe the wry smile of mischief wouldn’t have been replaced with the scowl of a year in love’s drought.
And with the tears you cried for me, I made my armor, an armor of strength I got from pushing you away, covering my shoulders in snake skin and play the role of deceiver, for as you know, all us snakes love the rain.
You would clasp my picture and cry as if I had died, thinking too much of me and directing me message after message after message until my inbox and voicemail were full, and I ignored you.
I pushed you to it with my promiscuity.
“No love for the loveless”, they said. “All hearts are equal in the eyes of god.”
I tried to return your call last year, but I only got the voice of your mother, maddened in disgust and rage in me and crying when she saw the caller ID with a heart on it.
She told me what happened, and I dropped the phone and cried.
This is the love rain: the rain that only emotion can inspire, for I thought I felt nothing for your innocent soul, but as it turns out, you were my everything.
And losing you to suicide was my worst mistake.

Breaking barriers like children break toys
With an air of practice
Looking to the sky with a thought of disembarkment, as life may be a journey, but my ticket isn't exactly taking me where i would like to go.

Cinder flamed ashen skin covers my lips as the thirst grows in my ravaged brain. I lick them and the wind soaks up the moisture.
The heatwave of my body is made aware in my eyes.
I blink yet the sights don't seem to register.
I speak, yet the words don't escape my vocal chords.
I feel, yet the tangibility isn't confirmed in any aspect.
Emptiness is made a factor.
I found out sorrofully that I couldn't connect with the caged bird, I thought I understood why it cried, but my meaning was incorrect, my thoughts were that of a loveless loner ready to embrace the freedom of the cage in its heart.
I was thoroughly incorrect. Why does the caged bird sing?
It sings because it wants others to feel its pain, it has nothing to do with perserverence.
It sings because through song anything is possible, through song
It finds its escape...

Not long after the birth of a poet, the death of a love was decided. It wasn't on purpose, it was the cycle of wash rinse and repeat
Trapped in a never ending circle. Thought, pressure, decision and all over again.
Today marks the day of deletion for me, the day a worthy lover was found and the day us two embarked on a journey to twist the arms of time and make our own futures...... today also marks the day of which I regret our meet.
Once was enough, twice was offensive, but three times hurts enough to render me dying.
It's not the fact of what you did, it's the fact that we can't share that connection. It's the fact that I feel too much to make that move or ask for that photo. I thought it was what I always jump to assume.
Love.
But I'm not making that mistake anymore. From here, I'm straight on the offense, no longer shall my soul be forced to put up with the abuse of the poetess who chooses her words like a shark chooses the perfect sized prey.
I'm Done from here on out.

I know she's worth my effort by the look she gives as she smiles me off. Maybe it's just a crush but it's something I'm willing to follow, and so I'll do it with the utmost sincerity.
The way I look at her is the way I'd look at goddesses of her tier, and as one, she gets the power of change over me.
The things I'd do for that woman, the things I'd do to keep her pleased and content with me,
the things I'd purchase,
the things I'd endure,
the things I'd force alive...
I would make her my boo.
I can see us walking now, holding hands as I cherish her warmth between our palms, in a heaven formed by two mentally equally yoked individuals attracting so much attention and love that those before them become jealous.
I can see us kissing and smiling for no reason, only connecting as physically as we do through the mind.

My Boo
She is my myth and my truth, my life and my breath, my brightness in death.
My love.

The fantasies are endless for me, ever the tease is the feeling of mutual love and loving that I fall asleep to the dream every night..

Body rocking happiness as we love each other's minds to a lull, bodies compressed into one as we made a new form of delicious.
It's clear I was ***** minded. My lips tingled as I watched her toes curl and listened to her voice ask for more. ****** after ****** until her voice hit a high note and It would chill my spine into a frozen jut into her once more before my breath became shallow and I would look down at my prey.
I would see that smile and lick my lips in excitement, more than ready to allow this round to end.
She would turn herself over and let me grab her cushion as I gave her the most I could without tipping over and closing my eyes. She would breath heavily into my pillow and hiss between her teeth, clutching at the covers like they were the only thing to keep her from falling.
The feel of her body would be enough to motivate me to continue until i heard louder moans from my baby, she would giggle at me and beg me to end it for her.
But I would make the little devil wait for it. And with a smile I'd tease her essence with the sweet words of linger that would let her know that I'm in it til her end. And then I'd tease her body
ever so softly
ever so firmly
until I would make her body shake uncontrollably and she would move on me, faster and faster until I would have to grit my teeth and regretfully ask her to slow down. But she wouldn't listen. She would have it, and she would have it now.........

But before the ******, I would always awake from this dream and sigh. My mind might be slightly *****, but a ***** mind without action is simply a mind that belongs to me.
A mind filled with fantasy