So you pulled again.
In Essex, in London, in Leeds, in Weymouth...
The list goes on.
Why do you always tell me?
I'm not jealous. You're just ******* them.
But that photo with your arm around her.
You ****** her too, I'm sure.
Complimentary of toga night you're pretty much semi-naked.
It was the two lipstick marks on your bicep that got me.
Not one, but two! On your perfectly firm, right bicep.
The one I gladly tied a blue ribbon around, whilst
my face was turning as pink as my Girl Power bandanna.
I hope you'll change back to the changed man you said you would be,
after the Fresher's fortnight is done.
If not, as opposed to ******* me emotionally,just **** me too.
It'll never be enough, but it's better than your smug texts! x

I* smoked a cigarette today.
Sitting outside alone in the cold night,
under the bewitching full moon light,
trying to endure the moment, but 'twas  windy.

Familiar triangle.* You are heartbreakingly
beautiful yet impossible to reach.
Loving you is self-destructive. Regardless,
I do and your enticement will never last.

When ever I think of you, which is all the time,
my breath gets caught up in an invisible barrier.
I  j u s t  c a n n o t  BREATH!
My body freezes and I have to hold onto the closest,
steady surface for support until my breathing pattern returns
back to normal.
Christ! I think you literally take my breath away!

Next thing I know, as my mind wonders from one thought
of you to another, my heart beat races and slows down, races
and slows down. It's completely irregular just like my breathing,
I feel blood gushing to my face, I'm blushing, then suddenly
I'm pale, as if all life is drained out of me I can hardly feel the
rhythm of my own pulse. Now when I come to think of it,
I guess this is you making my heart skip a beat!

I am caught up between memories and hopes, so very detached
from the reality, I'm laughing and crying at the same time,
and I have no words to describe how I feel or what I feel. It's as if
you've opened a portal to my soul from where words flow along with
a giant avalanche of raving emotions, it actually hurts 'cause I
wonder if you know, if you feel at all, I'm here, you're there,
nothing makes sense, it's just not fair...

Someday...
I want to live in a house with a blue door.   [My house has a brown wooden door]
By the sea, in the southern coast, with a
wooden fire to help keep warm.   [I live in the West Midlands and couldn't care less bout the fire]
Have a baby girl and a baby boy with
curly blond hair, honey brown eyes,
and fair sun struck skin.   [I have black hair, black eyes and brown skin]

Today...**
I hope you text me back!   *[I always text first]

I feel drunk all the time.

You are on my mind like a sweet hangover [if such a thing is possible].
Oh, but it must be. Your eyes, the colour of dark Amaretto, I could stare
at them intensely, casually, aimlessly, eternally, until I'm completely drowning
in your bitter sweet gaze.

Just thinking of you literally makes my heart flutter. I can feel
this giant ache, a longing perhaps pulling my heart in multiple directions.
Every single alarm bell in my brain is going off and I know
this has to stop specially since it never began, and even when I can
actually taste the foreseen heartbreak like the smell of cheap *****, I still
crave for you, the alcoholic I am.

I want to savour you as I would a glass of Baileys on a summer evening.
But right now I frankly don't care. Give it to me as a single shot of Absynth,
and I'll down it in one go, because

Baby, I'm addicted to you!

Lately I've been feeling quite numb.
From the time I wake up until,
my head hits the pillow.
I want to call you, text you, miss you, think of you,
but, instead I feel numb.

I read all the poems I wrote for you.
Heart felt, deep, passion
gushing out of every single word scribbled, but,
tonight as I'm lying on my bed,
typing away on my Android I just feel numb.

I remember the long romantic conversations that lasted forever?
Words, feelings, thoughts came easily, but now we communicate via poems.
All I know is there's something missing, and it's not you.
All I want is to write another love poem.
But I can't cause I feel numb.