is my disease
is the same as mine
is hurting others
and only thinking of yourself
you don't see
causes you to hurt me
your hate of self
is the disease that plagues humanity
if I don't stop hating myself
I will continue to hurt you
who wants to go first
right now I'm happy to be alone
with the shower water
There are moments where I am painfully aware of my existence.
Of the things around me.
I start to feel like I'm floating.
I'm suddenly very aware of the tiny screen I'm holding, how my fingers move across the keys, how small it is and how tiny I am.
sometimes i feel as though im floating in my own body, everything drowns out and I'm stuck in the limbo of unreality
its a nice place, for a while
One time my mother told me she hated my hair
She never actually said those words but it was in her stare
Another time she told me that my piercings reek of dispair
She didn't say it
But I felt it in the air
Then I realized that these feelings were false
Onto a mom
Who felt nothing but love and empathy
For her self hating child
afraid to speak my mind.
Afraid to tell you the truth in fear of you getting defensive and rude.
So I let you trample over me with your gas lighting and ****** words, I start to believe what your saying even though I know its lies. Your always right and i'm wrong, so how could I know right from wrong?
Oh, that's right! I've been telling myself the truth, while you've been living in denial your whole life. But, I'm just a silly little kid.
All that matters is your feelings, never mine. The last thing you called me still rings in my ears "Abusive", "Toxic", "Narcissistic"..... I never once told you any of the rude things I wanted to call you, because you already knew what you are. Look in the mirror and repeat those same words to yourself they suit you better.
I know i'm none of those mother.
My psychic energies are energized , warm, and strong
Signaling waves of physical feeling, warmth of a beating heart felt, and ****** moves exchanged.
Though miles apart, we are physically and in soul, together.Real.
Our blood flows through our veins and we appear to each other as our bodies sweat and touch is fused and cannot be changed.
The lightening sounds as we make love over waves so real
Sensual rhythms so bold and understandably near
we fuse together.
Real love and the desire for one another satisfied
as the remote seduction pleasurably brings our bodies to wet and desired ******
We long for our lives to become just as fused as our psychic bodies..
we know the attraction is here…
we both ****** under a huge yellow moon….
as destiny dictates the night of lust and also deep love
between two people from two far away places
Sweat draws full and near…
Our hearts begin to swoon….
as we celebrate our need and wanting for one another
in pure exotic form..
we are now physically and soulfully an art-form alike no other..
The ritual of the senses is a fire that rages on..
Until we return to our originating soul’s taken up places….
We know we never need to feel alone or deep in separation from our bodies..souls…and love..
For we can fly, at will, remotely to greet one another as our eyes
as we enjoy admiring one another’s beauty and faces.
I don’t love you
I love a reflection of you
a version of you
that appears to be you
but is not you
I don’t know you
I knew you
when you knew me
when you cared to know me
but that is not you
"If you'll make me up, I'll make you." - Virginia Woolf
How much of who we are are just stories? How much of you is made up in my head and how much of my flesh is your fabric? It reverberates between the cells of our bodies (our prisons): an entity that eludes definition and strings a cosmos betwixt our ends. In your silvery light, you are the moon and in my eyes, you are transcendental.
I know that only light makes you real. My mind brims with sunshine and it makes you sing, it makes you shimmer. Such ephemeral glory we held in our hands, beheld in our sights.
We shift in space; faraway glints of reflections. You flicker on your lonesome, your ashes I cannot douse with my sadness. Feverish at fingertips, I draw sigils to trap you in my mind. Phosphorescent and bleeding, as if anything could ever escape the damage from our names.
Winter's early dusk sinks around us. It's so cold and you're so warm, I know I'd go anywhere with you.
But we ruin too easy. I see you in the reflections of my mind, separating your image from who you really are. Everything I touch becomes surreal but here you are, still the same. A prosaic body that learned to glimmer in my light, still lunar in your way. There's nowhere to dive when you're only a surface, I can't peel at layers that don't exist.
In this gloaming, you can now see the light. In this gloaming, I now see your void.
dead to you,
You misunderstand the truth.
This is for those who believe that those who do not drink or do drugs ‘have no life’.