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#lovelies
Okay but get this. He said to me, you know my love for you is unconditional right HA. I laughed in his face. In my head I was thinking...you know the definition of unconditional love, right? Because your love is anything but unconditional. It is absolutely situational. Your unconditional love is heavily affected by one condition, therefore disqualifying it as unconditional love. So don’t lie to me. Don’t tell me your love is unconditional, when you don’t love me under certain conditions don’t tell me that lie. I’ve never understood why people tell that lie why that make that commitment when they’re not ready to. It should be that simple it should be that cut and dry. Don’t tell me you love me don’t tell me you care unless you’re **** well going to back it up with your actions.
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Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 11:51 AM UTC
“Unconditional”
I don't cry a lot, or at all for that matter. I've fooled myself into thinking strength, isn't comforted by weakness. Truth is, weakness is the builder of strength. I find that so contradictory, because what breaks me, tears me up and what strengthens me, builds my character up. No one decides, which is which. We have feminists arguing on behalf of the woman, dictating and reasoning for emotional expressions, but society judges being make and falling. Being a man, is a matter of endurance through hardships, breaking sweats, but never breaking a tear, because water works shouldn't work on male species, because feeling, isn't in our nature, says society. So, we aimlessly tear through the jungle, hunting for what we don't know, looking for a next meal, never being content, because, contentment is not part of our nature, says society. With private parts being made public, we move through the next with being hesitant, by the time she realizes, she's already been ****** Break hearts, play hearts and acting like we have hearts. That's society's perception of the male species. Society never talks about, the clean up crew. Society, never speaks about me. Society never speaks about my ****** hands with cuts of your broken heart, and with missing body parts try to bring aid to your heart. Society never speaks about trying to make you understand how I'm different, and with countless bouquets, it's never okay to let me in because you let him in, and from the ******* he left like you were nothing, and now that you have something, you won't let me in. He penetrated your skin, and I'm not fascinated by it, I was see your soul unmasked to mine, so I explore your soul before your body, and these steps I take on hot coal, because he didn't care so much so that the cuts burn. Your soul is almost like a morgue, I swear it's like your heart has been cremated, with an invite to your funeral, I hope you spread your ashes on my heart, so once again you can feel something whole, again.
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Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 12:50 PM UTC
Picking Up Broken Pieces
I don't cry a lot, or at all for that matter. I've fooled myself into thinking strength, isn't comforted by weakness. Truth is, weakness is the builder of strength. I find that so contradictory, because what breaks me, tears me up and what strengthens me, builds my character up. No one decides, which is which. We have feminists arguing on behalf of the woman, dictating and reasoning for emotional expressions, but society judges being make and falling. Being a man, is a matter of endurance through hardships, breaking sweats, but never breaking a tear, because water works shouldn't work on male species, because feeling, isn't in our nature, says society. So, we aimlessly tear through the jungle, hunting for what we don't know, looking for a next meal, never being content, because, contentment is not part of our nature, says society. With private parts being made public, we move through the next with being hesitant, by the time she realizes, she's already been ****** Break hearts, play hearts and acting like we have hearts. That's society's perception of the male species. Society never talks about, the clean up crew. Society, never speaks about me. Society never speaks about my ****** hands with cuts of your broken heart, and with missing body parts try to bring aid to your heart. Society never speaks about trying to make you understand how I'm different, and with countless bouquets, it's never okay to let me in because you let him in, and from the ******* he left like you were nothing, and now that you have something, you won't let me in. He penetrated your skin, and I'm not fascinated by it, I was see your soul unmasked to mine, so I explore your soul before your body, and these steps I take on hot coal, because he didn't care so much so that the cuts burn. Your soul is almost like a morgue, I swear it's like your heart has been cremated, with an invite to your funeral, I hope you spread your ashes on my heart, so once again you can feel something whole, again.
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16
I want to say that loving You was like falling, But that would be a lie. I want to say that loving You was like losing my breath, But that would be a lie too. I will say that loving You was like stumbling, Completely unsure if I would be caught. I will say that loving You was like suffocating, I couldn't seem to breathe at all. I won't say that I regret loving you, But I won't say that I'd try again. Loving You
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
Loving You
And as all living things crumbled before me I saw the end as it should never have come And the guilt of knowing that I was at fault That was the end of love's lie.
0
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
Love Lies