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Andrea Olmos Jun 2019
She cannot be enough for anyone if she’s not enough for herself.
She hates her long nails, her long hair and the rest of her ******* femininity.
All she wanted to be was ideal for someone that she thought she cared for.
Does he hear her screaming through the ecstasy he feels when he caused her pain?
He gave her these beautiful insecurities to cut herself with as she thinks of him.
When it rains for hours at a time she remembers dreaming about how one day she would be one of those raindrops touching him in places no one else had before.
He led these flawless fears of starting a family with anyone else because she wanted him first.
She wanted him to want her first in every way she wanted him.
There’s this song that she listens to repeatedly because the dancing beats reminds her…
The way you would ravage her in ways no else can or will.
She’s disappointed in her younger self for being so stupidly naïve and tastefully rambunctious.
She will be writing her vows soon and years later will most likely still be at her desk writing a book she will finish about her many different ideas of love she thought she created with him.
She tells him that she’s happily frustrated with herself.
She’ll write novel after novel and hope to catch a little attention even though she has more than enough with her guy.
Andrea Olmos Jan 2018
Pain was confused with Pleasure as Pleasure was confused for Pain.
Pleasure was related to Pain and praised for being painfully pleasurable.
Sweet, old Pain was remembered for being pleasurably painful.
Pain kissed Pleasure whenever and wherever he could.
Pleasure beautifully made love to Pain whenever and however she should, that way whenever Pain and Pleasure touched, ever so briefly, they would always keep a piece of each other, while never forgetting how close they are and will ever be.
Pain and Pleasure danced away their original definitions to come up with something more creative as intricate as their relationship.
Pain would smile and kiss away Pleasure’s tears and Pleasure would warmly bite away Pain’s infinite bruises.
Pleasure was agonizingly painful when she would attempt to show her love for Pain with her masochistic kisses and hugs.
Pain would lick Pleasure’s wounds in such a burning way, she would scream with delicious delight.
Pleasure told him: “I only let you kiss me and touch me if your lips and hands are full of intention.”
Pain told her: “I want every nibble to feel as though you are intimately writing the story of our lives on me.”
They naively thought the warm vibration between them was love: their bond that would eventually **** them both.
Andrea Olmos Jan 2018
The wind was kissing her hair in ways that would lovingly brush  across her soft forehead and tickle her eyelashes with the tips of her hair. The short gusts of winds made her eyes tears up at the ends a little as well as chill the tips of her soft fingertips. As the sun was setting she saw the way warm colors would kiss the darker cooler colors of the sky and all she could think about was he and what he was doing at that exact moment.
Sunsets were deadly to her. Deadly beautiful because they inspired her and teased her the same way he did. The light orange of the sky was the same color of the dying fire in her raging mind and fiery heart. She was in the middle of the sky with her little couch and balcony, in between her fading auburn sunset on the left and the dark nightly blues blending in with her reflecting ocean on her right.
She watched as the water reflected the changing blues in the sky it was as if the sky was getting herself ready for the night in her mirror: the ocean. Sadly enough, those blues sang to her about the lighter blues that would make her smile and cry simultaneously.
The cold brisk wind was touching her all over from the tips of her exposed toes to the tip of her nose. She loved seeing the atmosphere get darker and darker like her sad mind.  The breeze would remind her of the ways her love would keep her close with those deep blues of his.
But as the clouds were kissing away the fading sun with the purples and lavenders she wondered if she should save the trouble for her deep blue eyed creature and kiss him away as well. She was never going to get tired of going crazy with the way the sky painted the way she felt about him and the way they whispered to her how cold he made her feel when she was too warm for him like the sleeping sun.
As the sun took its final dip onto the horizon, she smiled at her shivering, goose-bumped covered legs and licked her lips so she could taste the kiss of the ocean the breeze brought to her.
She could taste him so well, even as she watched the sky and the ocean become the same dark blue as her bruised mind, she told her self to let her come back to him like the sun.
Andrea Olmos Nov 2017
Love is the most universally beautiful thing that any one of us humans could ever experience in some wonderfully, individual way. It is stupidly complicated, anyone can tell you that. But, honestly, if it wasn’t as complicated as it is then who would actually attempt it. It’s good that it’s complicated that way it keeps you on your toes.

Everything that you do to anyone is completely pointless. At first, the words and the feelings might hurt you and make you feel like you are losing every round against them even though both of you are supposed to be on the same team. Your imagination and the places your mind takes you will leave you without words because you want to believe that they are real and everything will happen as you wish it so. Unfortunately, that is not true because you see yourself feeding you these sweet, delicious lies and then you’re stuck with the brutal truth of it all.

He’s messaging you to tell you that you’re too young for the situations you put yourself in. You have tried to find yourself in every guy you kissed when really you have just come to realize that they were always trying to find themselves in you. Sadly, you gave yourself away blindly and thoroughly in every possible way. Funnily enough, you managed to keep some of your sanity while doing so or pretended to when you were falling apart when they were too scared to keep you.
Andrea Olmos Nov 2017
He is biologically programmed to love you unconditionally, regardless of anything or anyone you might do.
He’s the first to break your heart and the last to mend it.
He teaches you so many things whether they’re wrong or right. But even if he fails and gives you those great issues everyone wants and might have. This specific type of disorder that cannot help you differentiate between every other man you have slept with..
He's supposed to be the guy in your life that will never leave and never make you feel worse about yourself. Make you feel like that ridiculous princess that you are going to be.
It goes downhill when it does not work out because you’re holding hands with all the wrong boys and your mother starts to blame you because it is not one-sided when in reality it is. And everyone just starts emotionally blackmailing you on whatever you’re doing and shaming you in what makes you happy.
You receive ******* from the best guys that ones your mom would want you to marry. Then you laugh and realize that they’re not here to stay and you flutter to the next hand that will play with your hair like your father didn’t.
He makes me you want to be everything in the world just for him to be proud of you and give you that approval for the genes he shares with you.
Yet you also want to make sure he’s alive to see that pretty corpse of his little girl just to make him feel hell.
Every single hell that you went through with the occasional wrong guy that shared a kiss with you.
You’re thankful for everything else but less thankful for the **** you did not ask for.
Unfortunately, even if you surround yourself with either the jerks or darlings of the universe you always see that guy at home in one of them, either in the way they speak or cook.
#daddy #death #fuckyou
Andrea Olmos Oct 2017
She wanted the darkness to drown her to make her go to sleep and never wake up.
Her demon in her head was telling her to push that blade deeper into her soul.
He wanted to make the sharpness of the blade dance inside her wound.
Her cold fingers were around his wrist that was holding that wiggling blade.
His small thoughts could not see that he was not just holding the knife but he was also the cruelness of the pain that would peek through her drops of blood.
All of it would end for him: the kisses and smiles, the soft touches, sadly everything that made his terrible dream.
She would escape with his last extraordinary ****** provided by her and crash into her sea of night never to be seen again.
The tears would hopefully wash away some of the blood and then her body would be cold, as cold as his heart.
Happiness was never supposed to be one of her friends anyways but Death would always be that secret admirer stalking her every move.
Suffering from him knowing he would end up killing her sweetly was a pleasurable method of sedation.
Arousing her with delicious lies while laughing in her face, she then realized he was Lucifer himself and she was that naïve half ******.
What kind of woman is she for letting him damage her even more?
Is she kind-hearted for devoting herself to his cruel ways?
Or is she some kind of seductive sociopath not caring if she’s more than cold?
Andrea Olmos Sep 2017
His affection was fulfilling and she never wanted to let him escape his grasp because she loved being selfish with him.
She is I and he is he.
Unfortunately, she knows that she is completely broken beyond repair and that her serotonin is completely gone.
And we are as completely ****** up as long as we tell ourselves to be. I’m making a complete fool of myself wanting his lips on me. Those lips can make me do anything and everything; stupid or not.
But then I realize that she knows she means nothing to him and it barely hurts her because he needs a phenomenal ****** and she is a just silly sociopath.
She tries to imagine being with him with all her soul; them following all the beautiful steps like making babies and cooking together and traveling together, basically the whole book of *******.
They would talk about everything and anything together, Tell each other what they did; good and bad.
Wrapping herself in his gorgeous words and arms.
They would walk on the edge of the waves on the beaches and collect shells.
She could see the brightness of the sun flicker on his heartbreaking eyes.
#hate #love #him #her
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