#sillylove
I have run from you
one time too many
Finding myself out in the open,
There aren't too many places
to hide.
I've slid between the spaces of your fork
now you have me pinned,
I have run from you one time too many
I hope that you have mercy on me.
Along the lines of patience
I realize that mercy may be asking too much
But until now I've realized how big your teeth
really are.
With no place to run & your fork fast-ly
approaching there is no where else on this plate
to run.
I have run from you one time too many
and after tasting your lips
I question myself
Why did I run in the first place
Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 11:18 PM UTC
I was goofy in love,
That sort of sarcastic your ugly but I need you type of love.
That lounge around in underwear all day not afraid to be myself love.
In all seriousness, I wore nothing but her.
Smothering my nose in her hair. More commonly a set of areolas.
She was a character, sometimes rambling through my t-shirts.
Sliding her arms through loose hanging sleeves.
Pushing all of her hair to one side of her head, making silly faces.
Actually quite a scary thing to see, At that moment I prayed to God thanking him that she had a full head of hair. Although admitting that her left eye looking at the right one was kind of **** Especially with her tongue cocked to the side.
A smile ofter kept me out of trouble.
Although admittedly I'd avoid certain questions,
She was that big head pretty girl whom believed she was always right, even when she was wrong.
I loved telling her no.
Even when I meant yes. The first time was an accident. The next twelve hundred just became habit.
The concept really wasn't as vague as it sounds.
Honestly, I am a good guy.
I just loved dancing on her nerves from time to time.
The crinkles that formed around her nose as she turned red.
Especially in public, I'd always tell the cashier or waitress that she was abusive.
Often locking me in the closet.
That I was her *** slave and this would be the only time she'd let me leave the house. That she held me hostage, to only refer to her as mistress when we're out and about.
Either that or I'd push her on random isles of a store and yell shoplifter.
It was always something crazy with us.
Grabbing a foam sword and constantly poke her in the *** until ultimately she'd just stop walking.
Other women felt her pain.
Laughing before revealing intriguing conversations about their men and how they would always leave them at home.
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
I disciplined myself in her.
Humbling myself in her mold.
First my body then my soul.
Painting myself with her skin.
She scribbled her name across me.
Using her finger as a pencil, gently scribbling.
I don't want to sound crazy. But I thought she was suppose to be
the object of my affection not the other way around.
I love how she does that
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 12:37 PM UTC
I was simple, I was normal,
I was living my life.
Having fun with my friends,
Studying with a thrive.
No tension to mention,
Nothing wrong for correction,
Going places for adventure,
I was loving my life.
Then the day she came,
Like an angel in disguise;
I fell in love with her smile,
I didn’t even realize.
I forgot everything but her,
Couldn’t get her out of my head,
I so wanted to tell her,
But I was too afraid.
And when I finally proposed her,
And she said she felt the same;
How happy I was,
I can’t even explain.
And then we were together,
As in with each other;
It was all like a dream,
I was happy more than ever.
(All this happened like a “reel life” a “movie”, but what happens next is “real life”.)
But then,
I don’t know what happened,
That she said she wasn’t happy,
That it’s not working out,
That she wanted to be free.
The next day I see her,
With that guy she said, was her friend;
That day she broke my heart,
But now it’s a trend.
Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 3:50 AM UTC