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The promise
of tonight
stirs within

Let it
soon
begin
5pm, Saturday. #10w
 Feb 2013 Chandler Lauren
Lee
Who needs complications
when you have
Life.
euphoria to euthanasia
without the decency
of buying me dinner.
Leather and Lace
It's a killer embrace
wrapped up in sin
a mischievous grin
lock the door
clothes on the floor
your eyes are on me
my heart beats wildly
pull me close
breathe my name
I've never been one for your
stupid
little
games
The bed is soft
your hands are rough
"God you're so beautiful"
I don't dare call your bluff
shallow breaths
and heaving chests
there's lust in your eyes
fingers caress my thighs
you smell of leather
as you pull down my lace
I snap my eyes shut
and drink in your taste
once I was cold
but now I am burning
burning and yearning
for more of that embrace
it's killer
it's wicked
and I can't get enough
my insides are stirring
my heart skips a beat
my mind is far gone
I realize you've won
but so what if you did
because in the moment
in that very
moment
I've never needed you more
The feel of your pulse
it races against mine
my heart thuds once more
and then I open my eyes
hooded stares
shaky limbs
I fall to your chest
and breathe in your skin
it warms and tingles my inner core
sending a shock wave until
I
can't
take
any
more
lust and love
I couldn't tell the difference
i just wanted you to stay
and hold me
and wash all of it away
the sorrow
the pain
the loss of innocence
the darkness beneath
and the lack of what once was
the feel of your body
it lingers against mine
as you reach for your leather
and I pull on my lace
I turn to your face
to see the emptiness still remains
You pull me in your arms
one last time
no words are spoken
and the silence echoes
Your arms fall to your side
and in one long stride
you unlock the door
The silence is broken
by the slam of the door
a mirror falls off the wall
and just like my world
it shatters
I'm alone again
and left to contemplate
is it even worth it anymore?
i've always wanted to apply for CSSSA,
but i'm too scared the rejection letter
will be the future shades of senior year
when i finally hear back from the mailman
who took my essays a year ago,
all bundled up in pre-approved envelopes,
stamped, addressed, received, thrown aside.
-
but that's not for two years,
so i don't know why i'm worried.
-
i've always wanted to do something,
not make something of myself,
even though the verb is the same in
spanish, with a reflexive difference.
-
in regard to this, a wise twenty-something (contradictory)
once told me to let myself feel instead of worrying so much:
"to put it less eloquently, feelings are like ****. FEEL 'EM."
-
apparently i haven't felt in eight months.
-
so maybe in compensation,
i will apply to CSSSA,
though the deadline is the 28th,
and the assigned portfolio demands
an utter lack of procrastination--
not my strong suit, you could say,
as a month of homework is still
sleeping in my bed.
-
****, it's all due tuesday.
-
also, while walking home
i saw a norse god namesake
on a balcony-asgard, wreathed
in the byproduct of his last smoke,
and somehow, despite my inability
to feel, that just made me so sad.
-
You've heard things about me
I seem like a lot of things

Hey, guess what?
I've heard things about you too
But I'm still standing here
Waiting to listen to you
Not giving a **** about what
The rest have said
I am still here,
Ready to listen, despite
Everything new that'll be said
About me
I'm listening eagerly
Tell me what really happened
I won't judge
If you want, you don't even
Need to justify

It's just a pity
That you won't show me
The same courtesy


******, I'm such a loser
Comments?
 Feb 2013 Chandler Lauren
Julia
Bravery is the disease
that leads men into
their graves.
my face is pink
with alcohol abuse
and a hot shower

i clumsily sit cross legged
on my counter
wrapped in a ***** towel

the familiar taste
of fermented wheat
tingles on my tongue

and i see no beauty in the world

the whole planet,
my whole existence,
has been a twisted illusion

my eyes take in random
collections of atoms and trick me
into believing in the material

but everything
is just a reaction
inside my mind

the love you profess
the taste of this beer
and the scent of my mother

they're all just
cruel jokes
i played on myself
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