Love is not accepting the pain or reveling in it.. True love never leads to self-sabotage.
Its love when it lifts you up and you become love itself ... You are capable of loving only when you can walk away from something that's destroying you ... Until then it's your soul showing you what love exactly is not ...

There is a song that we heard. I don't know the words to it. But I know that it brings you back to me. It brings back the thoughts of those nights where the bite of your hands ****** in my hair, the rhythm of our pounding pulse, the fire in your eyes, the way your face changes just that moment before you take control, left me breathless and the memories of that morning-afters when you held me close while I could feel the sweet ache of those red and purple trails that you left on my skin ...
I hear that song and it makes my blood sing.

Some of us sell pretty versions of our ugly selves and call it truth; others fold our pretty truths into ugly lies and call it even. We are illusionists, realists, the gamblers of souls, and we all pay the poet, in the end

I wait for you in those hair raising moments while my skins tingles and my blood burns underneath. I lay my body out in wait for yours to join me and I lay my heart out waiting to hear yours beat fast... I know I can never give you all you have ever wanted but ill give you myself and wait with the hope that you will come to claim me...

Life is how you enjoy...
The rain..
Wheter to use an umbrella...
To avoid it...
Or ....
You will dance...
With the freckles...

But under the silence
   of what we say to each other,
       is the much more articulate silence
           of what we don’t say to each other,

a storm of things unspoken,
  coiled,
     reserved,
       appointed,
        ticking away
  like a clock attached to a time-bomb:
    crash,
       fire,
         demolition wound up in the quietly,
            almost tenderly,
              small,
                 familiar things
                    unspoken.

I am here.
Sitting on the warm sand,
while the summer breeze
blows on my face.
I look at the sea's waves
wishing that I could be
just a small drop of salted
water.
A drop which would travel
slowly from the sea's lap
through the ocean and
would get right next to
you.
And then just like a
mermaid casted out of a
fairy tale, I would rise from
the ocean's deep embrace
and transform into the
woman, who you crave to
hold in your arms.
Your unique love.
Your special muse...