Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Apr 2015 Nickoli
em
She.
 Apr 2015 Nickoli
em
she’s the girl who will remember everything. from your birthday, to the story behind that scar on your left arm, to the number of freckles on your body.

she will love every inch of your body and your soul and even the heart you didn’t know you had.

she will take in everything you have to offer and give you back so much more. so much, that you won’t even know what to do with it.

she will open up the world for you. from books and music and film to things like culture and race and language.

she’s smarter and far more beautiful than she dares herself to show.

and you will love her.

you will love her like you’ve never loved anybody before.

she will level every winter your body has suffered with all the springs her bones have weathered.

and when you go, because you can no longer handle her, she will drown herself in alcohol and drugs and sorrow. and wonder why she wasn’t good enough.

she will refuse to be saved by any other hand because nobody can touch her quite like you.

she will **** herself with loneliness and then resurrect with her own scent.
and then she will do it again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

she will be weak and strong and bold and shy and mean and nice and everything in between.

she will grow. she will grow strong and tall.

and so will you.

and in ten years from now, when you run into her at the supermarket, she will ask about your marriage.

and while you’re there telling her about your wife, who is home with the kids, and your job, she will feel genuinely happy for you.

because she forgave you. she forgave you for walking away and she forgave herself for ever thinking she wasn’t good enough.

she will have realized by then that sometimes life will give you somebody just to watch you break when it takes them away from you.

and she will be okay with it.

and so will you.

but, she will walk away without telling you about her life because she doesn’t want you to hear it in her voice that she still remembers your birthday, and that birthmark on your right shoulder.

and that ten years ago, she had hoped you would run into somebody else and told them all about her being at home with the kids.
***
It doesn't obligate a relationship.
Nor does a relationship obligate ***.
*** is an expression of a feeling for another being.
And it shall be pursued as such and nothing else.

Not as a label. A habit.
(Self-destructive or otherwise.)
Not for pity. For lack of self awareness.
Not for boredom or distraction from life.
Not for obligation or money.
Never when you don't want to.
But for when you do.

As pure expression.
For the moment you couldn't stop yourself if you tried.
Basorexia.
The desire long haunting you.
Overwhelmingly and thoughtlessly,
immersed in a kiss.
A caress.

To share an Aura with someone so unbelievably magnetic,
and picturely poetic.
Every smile, thought and fault,
Is frozen in time.
A moment catching its beauty.

***.

It's for that special person you kissed a year ago,
And you can't forget the taste of their lips.

It's for the one who's eyes,
speak louder than words and actions all together.
Finding you timelessly, again in your dance.

For the one you took for granted.
That you knew you should have held a bit longer,
But couldn't because a vampire had your heart.

It's for the one you're most nervous about.

The one that creeps into your mind and you're not sure why.

The one that makes you want to scream :: "Take Me Away!"

Regardless, whoever + whenever,  have one vow:

**<<< Do It Only If They Drive You Wild. >>>
~Save it ~4luv. <3
 Mar 2015 Nickoli
ejb
sex
 Mar 2015 Nickoli
ejb
***
the other day we talked about ***

about how much you wanted it

and about how much i wanted it too

and ever since all i can think about is us having *** with each other

and i want it so bad

and i want to tell you in hope that you want it too

but i cant

because i cant risk losing what we have

because you mean more to mean that any other human on this planet

and i love you with all my heart

and i want to give more of myself to you

but im afraid you wont give it back
I kinda **** a poetry but hey I try at least.

— The End —