Always the other woman.
Not the reality.
The fantasy.
Maybe that’s what I want or subconsciously seek.
To be only that. The fantasy of one (or many).
Maybe I’m scared
that I’m not worth the real trueness of deep,
selfless, intimate love…
but rather
the “go-to girl” for their passionate, heat-of-the-moment,
over-the-top-excitement and
momentary bliss.
Always adored.
Never treasured and truly
cherished.
Not for one’s self entirely.
Always for a moment.
Never forever.
It’s always; “shhhhhhh… honey,
quiet your passion, I’ll call you later.”
It’s never now.
Always later.
A generously fulfilling future is always over the horizon.
I’m able to touch and feel it.
Just never hold it
or keep it
for my own.
Always the other woman…
The one that rescues you from yourself,
your miseries,
your lover or
lack thereof.
But who rescues me?
Who takes me in,
Like a bird with broken wings and
Keeps me?…
Tasting me on your lips
so sweet
The moment is always just that.
A moment.
I lose myself in them sometimes.
Thinking for a moment
That they could be mine.
Truly.
Fooling myself in the “if only’s…”, just for that second.
Forgetting what some many others
Have forgotten.
It’s always a moment.
Quiet my passion now.
My innermost feelings. Renounce them.
“Be happy with what I’ve been given.” I tell myself.
That piece of you.
That tiny fragment.
A miniscule facet of what lies within you.
Don’t ask for more
It doesn’t exist…
…but for a moment.
Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 8:05 PM UTC
Always the other woman.
Not the reality.
The fantasy.
Maybe that’s what I want or subconsciously seek.
To be only that. The fantasy of one (or many).
Maybe I’m scared
that I’m not worth the real trueness of deep,
selfless, intimate love…
but rather
the “go-to girl” for their passionate, heat-of-the-moment,
over-the-top-excitement and
momentary bliss.
Always adored.
Never treasured and truly
cherished.
Not for one’s self entirely.
Always for a moment.
Never forever.
It’s always; “shhhhhhh… honey,
quiet your passion, I’ll call you later.”
It’s never now.
Always later.
A generously fulfilling future is always over the horizon.
I’m able to touch and feel it.
Just never hold it
or keep it
for my own.
Always the other woman…
The one that rescues you from yourself,
your miseries,
your lover or
lack thereof.
But who rescues me?
Who takes me in,
Like a bird with broken wings and
Keeps me?…
Tasting me on your lips
so sweet
The moment is always just that.
A moment.
I lose myself in them sometimes.
Thinking for a moment
That they could be mine.
Truly.
Fooling myself in the “if only’s…”, just for that second.
Forgetting what some many others
Have forgotten.
It’s always a moment.
Quiet my passion now.
My innermost feelings. Renounce them.
“Be happy with what I’ve been given.” I tell myself.
That piece of you.
That tiny fragment.
A miniscule facet of what lies within you.
Don’t ask for more
It doesn’t exist…
…but for a moment.
