To my love,

I'm writing you this because I can't take it anymore. You are so perfect, and it's driving me crazy. Every time I see you I get butterflies, I have gotten to the point where I am now used to it..but I can't stop thinking about you. You're golden brown eyes, the way they look at me as I walk by you, or the way they sparkle perfectly in the sunlight. Your voice, which gives me such relief when I hear you. And your smile, I have never seen anything so handsome in my life. I think it's bad when I see you, but when you smile my heart drops. My heart goes into my stomach, and it beats faster then ever. The way your eyes squint when you smile, and your small but perfect little dimples. I have never felt about someone the way I feel about you. People say it's just my emotions, or that it's just a little crush..but if this is a crush, this is the longest crush I have ever had. At this point I don't feel as if this is a crush. You can't feel this passionately about a crush. I'm in love with you. I can't even explain how I feel about you my feelings are so bundled up and twisted. All I know is that when you kissed my cheek, I felt something inside of me that I have never felt before. When I see you with another girl, my heart breaks because I know someone can make you happier then I can. If only I could have you all to myself, to be able to kiss you whenever I want, I would give anything for. This may be just a phase, or hormones..but all I know is that I have never loved someone the way that I love you.

we've been playing for months, yet
i am no longer the master of my own game.
i sit and wonder, "how did i get here?"
without ever truly questioning myself.
simply because i knew.
it is as though I am currently without a name.
considerably since "This" is no longer Me.
who I am, who That is,
                I am no longer certain.
I have simply become a replica of Its impression on Self.
      "tick tock, tick, tock."
the arrogance of time refuses to stop,
and "now" becomes a fleeting "then"
as My life slips through "Her"
into a dazed, drunken phase.
time only lingers in the present
for those who are truly Present.
Her time is lost, so what is My time
when the days blur together?
"Her" memory sanitized and wiped cleaned.
***** cleans wounds, right?
Dissociation to self,  the insouciant desire to care.
an erratic, chaotic, tumultuous torrential downpour.
I'm theatrical sure, but passionately so.
"Passion," i'll drink to that.
                   "Pain" has me pouring another,
                                                    and another.
"Reward me," and we'll cheers to the clear liquid that
warms my throat with each increasing gulp.
"Relax." you worked hard, take one or two.
              Six deep, Seven's the magic number,
                          plus, what's one more?

yet one will never be enough.    "sleep or shoot."
            
                            don't forget to swallow.
                            you know you love it.

stop saying no when You can say "yes,"
and stop holding back, when I'm telling You "NO."

                         stop fighting...
                                                ...su­ccumb to the misery.
  
 besides, just one pour will make it all better.

if words are food for the mind,
then here is a glimpse of mine
if words are drugs for the brain,
then here is why i'm so pained.

abandoned, abhorrent
abnormal, absent
abstract, abuse
addicted, anxious

betray, bitterly
blank, blasphemy
bloodless, breakdown
breathless, brutal

captive, casually
catastrophe, cautiously
change, cigarettes
crucial, clueless

damaged, dangerous
deadly, disastrous
disheartened, disconcerting
dramatic, dreading

eager, eccentric
ecstasy, eerie
effete, effortless
embittered, excess

faded, failure
faintly, fallacy
faltering, fatally
fearfully, finally

garbage, gawky
gibberish, gloomy
gone, goodbye
graphic, gratify

hallucinate, harshly
hazy, heartless
hectic, helpless
hesitant, hit-and-miss

idiotic, idly
ignorant, intimacy
illogical, imaginative
infatuated, intoxicated

jealousy, jittery
journey, journal
joylessly, judicial
junk, juvenile

keen, killing
knavish, knocking
knockout, knotty
knowingly, knowledge

laborious, lacking
lame, languishing
lifeless, literature
lovelorn, lugubrious

madness, maintenance
make-believe, malaise
mean, melancholic
mellow, melodramatic

naff, naivety
nameless, naturally
nauseous, nebulous
neglected, nervous

oasis, objectionable
obliged, obliterate
oblivion, obscurity
obsolete, one-and-only

pacifist, pained
pale, panicky
paradise, paralyze
passionately, passively

raging, ranting
rationalize, raving
realistic, reasonable
rebellious, reckless

saboteur, sadness
sake, sameness
sanity, satisfactory
scar, steady

taint, tangled
tasteless, tearful
telling, temperamental
terror, theoretical

unaffected, uncanny
uncommon, unconsciously
undesirable, uneasy
unfortunate, untidy

vaguely, vanish
vanity, vanquish
versatile, vicious
violence, voracious

waiting, waking
walkout, wanting
wasteful, weary
withering, wrecking

if words are food for the mind,
then you've seen a glimpse of mine
if words are drugs for the brain,
then no wonder i'm so pained.

*-djs

The clocks tick down from hours to seconds
leaving me at the end of a lonely road
where you and I stand at different ends
of the paths we used to tread on together.

Always out of time, aren't I?

Running.
Breathless.

I don't even have the time to put on my
**** shoes.

I am rushing down the corridors,
I don't have the key to the car,
I'm still trying to put on my shirt
and I am trying to do it all at once.

Rushing.
Out of breath.
Tears now falling.

Too late, always, aren't I?

Like a thunderstrike straight to the chest,
I get news--
far too late for the girl far too late--
you are somewhere on a bridge
waiting to take a leap of faith.

Lost in seconds pouring away
like rain on the sill.

Lungs ablaze.

Six blocks down to the river.
Distances counting themselves
from inches to naught.

A splash in the river.

Always too late.
Always too late.

Lost you.
**Too.

Consume me
Consume my whole soul
Consume me
Consume my whole mind
Consume me

Use me
Use me in a good way
Use me
Use me to make you happy

Love me
Love me passionately
Love me
Love me as long as you can

Destroy me
Destroy my walls
Destroy me
Destroy my whole world
And let me live in yours

You can’t deny what is justified
Neither the wrists that were crucified
And at the peak of His sovereign grace
And the crown that pierced the top of His face
And we destroyed in our eyes a chunk of mud
And yet; He saved the souls of Adams blood
He forgave our ignorance and tall some grew
And many today through Him become new
We were granted a gift you see
One so unnatural it shouldn’t be
We know it so well it’s like we don’t care
But truth is you look at what else He’ll spare
You glance at the list and we’re bottom to top
And everything else is washed with a mop
So may it never be! As Paul would say
To belittle such a privileged way
I can’t save you from your delay
But sovereign is the Lord through Him you may
The invitation is written in us now
And it’s your choice where you’ll be when our knees will bow
Maybe I’m saying this a little too lightly
Understand when you’re given a rope, you should hold on tightly
For crying out loud do you still not comprehend
That others given a soul aren’t lent a hand
as a being in God’s creation alone
and made to accept a debtless loan
Through a process foreign to things known
And here we lie guilty and not blown
In all evil is God given wrath
No escape from a hopeless death
So as not so mind-opening as I wanted to be
Think to yourself about this significance and see
What we live in this life is passionately hated and despised
But yet it’s still your choice to either be loved or denied
For our helpless minds were those wrists crucified
You can’t deny what is justified

I feel the humid emotion in our room

This room where feelings are felt and magic happens between you and I

You, sitting on the edge of our bed..motionless as the air itself..

Your pale colored eyes looking hungrily all over me..craving desire..

I know you want me..

Your layered jet black hair falling over your face in a roughed up lust..

I , sitting across from you on the ground

These old cherry glazed wooden floors that are so familiar to us

Sitting half undressed,  motionless

My hair in a mess, like one of those models posing in a vogue magazine

Desperately waiting for something to spark between this still nature

My eyes

looking you up..

and down …

I want you…

I crave your touch

That euphoric rush you give me when your skin meets mine..

I want to feel your warmth up against my body

A feeling I longed to feel for so long

Sometimes I wondered if love really exists?

Sitting alone, envisioning, and always thinking of you

Is love just a movie?

It starts, and sadly ends

When I see you here in front of me, I deeply reflect.

I think no, never.

You are the definition of love

You are my beautiful distraction

The way your eyes lock on mine, they paralyze me, our gaze is cemented

I wonder if you feel the same about me

The emotions rush through my body as I passionately look at your perfection

I the butterfly, and you the lion, such strong complexities to obtain.

I leisurely rise and walk towards you following your desirable gaze

I get close to your body and touch your gentle face, you let me get into your lap.

You make me fear, you

I touch you to reassure this is real

The love I have wanted for so long.

I kiss your soft skin, and bite your lips gently.

Your warm body up against mine makes me melt in your arms.

We share deep and passionate kisses that I wish would last forever.

But forever is too long and I would be a corpse decaying in your arms.

This memory will always linger
I only want more from you.

Take me somewhere we both know we want to go

I whisper words into your ear softly

Words that haven’t been spoken as long as I could remember.

I shudder with life every time your touch embraces my soft skin.

I close my eyes and the world spins into a maelstrom of pure bliss

a beautiful desire.

Love is a two way street.

I give love; out of a willingness to receive love.
Upon speaking love, I would have heard of it,
Experienced passionately; out of a passion to be loved.

Out of a passion to be loved, experienced passionately.
I would have heard of it, upon speaking love.
Out of a willingness to receive love; I give love.

Love is a two way street.

a mere moment.
a chance meeting.
souls caressing.
a content sigh.
rapid heart beats.
eyes gazing.
fluttering lashes,
pursed lips,
interlocked fingers,
passionate kisses,
you make my day shine,
my heart tingle,
chills spreading across my body,
joyous moments,
unforgettable.
sharing thoughts,
bodies entwined,
every moment with you is pleasure,
my mind wanders to you when we are apart,
that twinkle in your eye,
the way your lips curve in a smile.
your laughter, your insight
your voice is music to my ears
I wouldn't change a thing.
You are who I look forward to when I wake,
Who makes me giddy with anticipation,
possibilities are endless.
This is love
and I'm deeply in love with you

Don't listen to me; my heart's been broken.
I don't see anything objectively.

I know myself; I've learned to hear like a psychiatrist.
When I speak passionately,
That's when I'm least to be trusted.

It's very sad, really: all my life I've been praised
For my intelligence, my powers of language, of insight-
In the end they're wasted-

I never see myself.
Standing on the front steps. Holding my sisters hand.
That's why I can't account
For the bruises on her arm where the sleeve ends ...

In my own mind, I'm invisible: that's why I'm dangerous.
People like me, who seem selfless.
We're the cripples, the liars:
We're the ones who should be factored out
In the interest of truth.

When I'm quiet, that's when the truth emerges.
A clear sky, the clouds like white fibers.
Underneath, a little gray house. The azaleas
Red and bright pink.

If you want the truth, you have to close yourself
To the older sister, block her out:
When I living thing is hurt like that
In its deepest workings,
All function is altered.

That's why I'm not to be trusted.
Because a wound to the heart
Is also a wound to the mind.

Darling I've come a long way
I hope you'd be proud of me
If I had the courage to tell you
About the things I used to do passionately.

I used to taste the metal against my skin
Deep and slow just like breathing
I used to watch as the blood flowed
Leave myself inches from dying

It was my faithful addiction
For 4 awful years
Everything bottled up beneath the surface
Only at night could you see my tears

But I'm so much better now
Yes I still have troubled times
But no longer do I resort
To my self inflicted midnight crimes.

I've cast off the metal
For the softness of your skin
Clean for almost a year now
I've chosen another sin

Something more painful than razors
But God isn't it pleasant too
You see my love
My newfound sin is you

a kiss does not always mean
"i love you"

sometimes it means
"i am sorry"
and sometimes it means
"i have to go"

i have had kisses that taste like
alcohol, sweat and stinging regret.
i have had kisses that were laced
with desperation as their tongue
wrestled with mine.

i have had kisses that left me feeling
more empty about myself than good.
i have had kisses that never should
have happened, ones i wanted to take back.
jesus christ, i wish i could.

there are kisses i have given
that were so passionately deep
only because i was trying to find something,
maybe searching for the thing that
no one could ever find inside of me.

there are kisses that have broken my heart.
and there are kisses that never happened,
but still managed to make me fall apart.

kisses that made me a mess of ****** cliches.
kisses that kept warning me,
kept signaling me to stay away.

Though life should come
With all its marshalled honours, trump and drum,
To proffer you the captaincy of some
Resounding exploit, that shall fill
Man’s pulses with commemorative thrill,
And be a banner to far battle days
For truths unrisen upon untrod ways,
What would your answer be,
O heart once brave?
Seek otherwhere; for me,
I watch beside a grave.

Though to some shining festival of thought
The sages call you from steep citadel
Of bastioned argument, whose rampart gained
Yields the pure vision passionately sought,
In dreams known well,
But never yet in wakefulness attained,
How should you answer to their summons, save:
I watch beside a grave?

Though Beauty, from her fane within the soul
Of fire-tongued seers descending,
Or from the dream-lit temples of the past
With feet immortal wending,
Illuminate grief’s antre swart and vast
With half-veiled face that promises the whole
To him who holds her fast,
What answer could you give?
Sight of one face I crave,
One only while I live;
Woo elsewhere; for I watch beside a grave.

Though love of the one heart that loves you best,
A storm-tossed messenger,
Should beat its wings for shelter in your breast,
Where clung its last year’s nest,
The nest you built together and made fast
Lest envious winds should stir,
And winged each delicate thought to minister
With sweetness far-amassed
To the young dreams within—
What answer could it win?
The nest was whelmed in sorrow’s rising wave,
Nor could I reach one drowning dream to save;
I watch beside a grave.

The 'wheel of Dharma' with eight spokes leads from the front,
I bow to the Buddha's 'eightfold path' and walk forward,
My love, the octopus, my 'dharma consort';  I didn't choose her myself,
her eight hands passionately sought me and found ,
I surrendered to the possibility of abundant caresses.
Her eight lithe hands, touch and tangle me, sloshing her love.
A journey man I am, a humble seeker too, walking sun splashed paths,
equally in love with dusky night and moon beams tender.
When I am in pain and distress, any one's fate in this planet,
she transforms to love eightfold and more, scented breeze at my bedside.

The first measures of your favorite song coming on the radio
The lurch your stomach gives when you go too high on a swing
Dancing in the rain, and splashing in the puddles
The relief in flopping yourself down on your bed after a hard day
Happy dreams
The moment you realize there is one more cookie in the box
Your favorite outfit
Hugs from loved ones
Discovering beautiful shells on the beach
Waking up and realizing you still have a couple hours to sleep
The joy of saying, “I love you”
The joy of hearing it back
Lazy Sunday afternoons
Happy birthday wishes
Deep, meaningful conversations with friends
Little children running in the sun, enjoying life
Helping a classmate with homework
Reconnecting with old friends
The awe you feel watching a sunset
Raindrop races on windows
That grin you give your friend across the room when the teacher says, “pick a partner”
Hot showers after a good game
Stuffed animals that don't mind being squeezed and cried on
The tears and hugs of making up
Realizing the moment you fall in love
The congregation passionately singing your favorite hymn
Spreading God's Word
Puppies and kittens
That text from the right person at the right time
Surprising your friends with little gifts
The smell of new books
The smell of old books
Capturing that perfect picture
Your unknown potential
God's love

Deh-bee.  Deh-bee.  Deh-bee.  I sit entranced by the rhythmic force of the cargo train rolling by.  This is the third train in 25 minutes, and with each pass, the sound of the heartbeat steals my attention away from the drunken chaos around me.  I glance at the north wall where a small, golden, shadow flickers with each pulsation.  Deh-bee.  Deh-bee.  Deh-bee.   The cargo train seems to disappear as unexpectedly as it arrived, and now I am pulled back into the scene around me – drunk, rowdy bar-hags and middle-aged men with bellies expanding at a rate too fast than can be restrained by their tucked-in Milwaukee Brewers t-shirts and their ******* Green Bay Packers jerseys.  I re-focus my attention to the crew with whom I share this table.

The CEO’s.  How is it that God blessed me with such an opportunity as to break bread with these four great, inspiring, and humble men?  NO WAY IN HELL is this a coincidence - this is undoubtedly God’s work at hand.  Our waitress walks quickly by, and I notice the uncomfortable glance she casts in our direction, her eyes focused on Vince’s t-shirt that reads in large, red letters, “CEO. Christians Encouraging Others.”

Vince. Boisterous and fearless, he can be relied upon to know everything about anything, and for the benefit of all within ear-shot, he never shuts-the-****-up about his faith or about those who lack it.  Thank God for Vince because without his leadership during our five-hour drive here, I would know nothing about tire pressure, ideal gas mileage, ****, the meaning of great music (a.k.a. R.E.M.), or how to deal with nagging kids. He is a truly model Christian, taking every opportunity to remind us of our calling in this world, passionately ending most conversations with, “This is Satan’s domain - the end of the world as we know it.”  When we were one hour away from the campgrounds, Vince disproved my previously-developed theory that he could not possibly be any more of a puke.  After making sure he still had everyone’s attention, he pulled out his favorite hat and enthusiastically adjusted it on his head.  Featuring another clever acronym, the oversized, navy-blue trucker mesh cap accented with gold rope trimming proudly sports, “C.I.A.”  Christian in Action.  

I share a cabin with Vince and these other heads of households.  These fellows come here once a year “to get away from the wives.”  One of the other fellows with whom I have the pleasure of sharing the cabin is Paul.  Paul forewarned us that he suffers from irritable bowel syndrome, a claim substantiated by the bag of “**** powder” that he proudly held up in the air during the ride here for all to see.  My brother Tom also comes along in order to partake in the outdoor activities, trip paid in full by my older brother, Richard, who has financially supported Tom for as long as Tom has been able to utter the words, “I can’t afford it.”  Thanks to ****’s Christian generosity, Tom’s soul has been saved along with all of Tom’s money as his mortgage was paid off over a decade ago.  Unlike Tom, **** is a tortured soul who suffers from PTSD.  He is also a recovering (to be more accurate, “recovered”) addict, having been cured “just like that” (snap!) when he found Christ in the 70’s.  

Deh-bee. Deh-bee. Deh-bee.  Another cargo train…  Why did I agree to this?  The waitress comes by again, this time with our food.  “Thanks, doll,” Vince says with a wink.  Embarrassed for her, I look away, staring once again at the flickering light on the north wall.  My gaze is suddenly disrupted by the steamy, ivory dish of food placed in front of me.  French fries, bathed in a lake of runny ketchup, sit enticingly in the middle of my plate.  To the left are mountains of milky-white coleslaw, and to the right sit boulders of golden-baked cod stacked one upon the other, towering high as if built to honor to the gods.

Without hesitation I grab the pale, cloth napkin and blanket my legs.  I find myself clenching the sparkling fork as I drive it into the base of the cod shrine.  Ketchup runs everywhere, and as I lift the bloodied mess above my plate, I become too distracted by the sound of Vince’s voice to notice that the cod never makes it to my mouth.  Vince stops and stares at the blunder of food now back on my plate, laughter erupting from the bowels of his cholesterol-encased belly.  

Debbie. Debbie. Debbie.  No train.  I look down at my plate again, the contents of my plate further bathed in ketchup.  My appetite is gone.  All I can think about is that frigid November night two years ago when I found her lying dead, body still warm, in our gazebo. When I saw the back of her head all over the floor, I knew it was too late.  “Debbie and I were going to go out for fish that Friday, but I didn't get home early enough…”  I hadn’t realized that I said anything aloud, but the sudden silence around the table quickly awakens me to reality.  

With a mouth full of chewed cod, Vince looks intently at me and raises his arms. “Man, don’t let him trick you!  He’s out for everyone, and he’s toying with ya.  Shoo him away. Christ is in you. This is Satan’s domain, and he’s messing with your head.”  

His voice trails off as my mind wanders back to that night.

“Greg, are you listening to me?  Cast these thoughts away, man!  The devil is trying to ensnare you. Call upon…”

“Hey, Vince.”  I cut him off.  “The other day I saw this sign in front of a church, and your hat just reminded me of it. The sign said, ‘It’s hard to stumble when you’re down on your knees.’  You know why your hat reminds me of that sign?  

"Let me tell you, Vince.  Let me tell you why your ******' hat reminds me of that ******' sign. Cause your hat says, ‘C.I.A.’”

Vince, silent for the first time since I’ve known him, responds to my comment with a blank stare.

“C.I.A.  ****... In… ***…  Get it?  You see, you’re never going to stumble, Vince.  You’re already head down, on your knees, taking it hard in the ***.”

Feeling cool, damp, mist of air surround me
whilst I run my calloused finger tips over
the petals of every flower that reminds me
of you.

I never thought to study botany until the day
you spoke my name in the husk
of your skin chilling voice.
Everything you do, everything you say,
reminds me of the gentle chaste kisses
of Mother Nature.

Your eyes as mesmerizing as Borage,
lips as inviting as Hoya.
The way you say my name
reminds me of blooming Orange Cream Dahlias
and when you speak passionately is every
purple freckled Orchid.

I couldn't find any flowers to match the
radiance of your smile until I stumbled upon
my most beloved plant; the Sunflower.
The infant of the center of our solar systems
warmth. Because your smile is so warm
and inviting, all I can possibly do is bask in
its elegant beauty.

he was philosophical
the way any person is when they're high.

he wore black framed glasses
and talked too much;
which i kind of liked.
he said my name made me sound like a classy stripper.
i chose to take it as a compliment.

i didn't ask his age
though i wish i had.

he talked passionately about
aquatonics and molly.
he said he was starting up a business.

maybe i was flattered that he thought i was cute
or maybe he was generally interesting.
i'm not sure though.
all i can remember is the way the hookah tasted
as the music faded out.

I looked for a word to say.
   but I could not find one today.
I had hoped to find a word that would stay in your heart.
   That would show you exactly what tore us apart.

I hate what you did... I hate you so deeply.
I hate what you said... I hate you so passionately.
I hate what you made me... I hate you so sweetly.

I look at you and I cannot tell what is in your eyes.
   I speak directly to you but all that comes out of your mouth are lies.

I see how you hurt.
I see how you hurt me.
I just do not understand.

All your true feelings are kept and safely hidden in a far far away land.
   Is this a land we call love?
And now it is a destruction.
   A land God has made from above.
And now we call it seduction.

Its true in a way we both long for each other.
  But we both see to long for another.
Another human being we both thought we were
   But now it seems that this human being I thought you were is now a blur.

This is a bitter sweet heart
   That will end in eradication.
This is a bitter sweet part that needs some construction.

Why I hold on?
I do not know.
I probably will never know why.

I should move forward... Yes
But I feel like I would rather just die.

You caused obliteration deep into my heart.
You caused obliteration because you thought it was smart.

I hate what you did... I hate you so deeply
I hate what you said... I hate you so passionately.
**I hate what you made me... I hate you so sweetly

Floating, drifting,
Slowly it passed from his hand
To the cold, hard sidewalk.
It once was a pretty flower,
With petals bright and cheerful
And a stem green and healthy.
Johnny’s night had not been great,
As was anticipated by his mom.
“You’ll have fun!” she said.
“But what about…” he trailed off,
Remembering the hulking ex-boyfriend
Of Lily, the girl he thought he loved.
“Just have fun,” she soothed.
Walking- no scuffling -down the street,
He remembered those last words she had said.
Even though this hadn’t been the night of his life,
He could still have a good time, right?
Five minutes later,
Johnny exited the nearby hardware store.
Four cans of spray paint in hand,
He drifted into the community center downtown.
All Johnny needed was a blank canvas
And about an hour before they closed for the night.
I thought I was going to get my first kiss.
I could have sworn she was going to be my girlfriend this time.
If only I wasn’t such a dork,
Then maybe she would be interested in me.
I hate everyone and everything!
The paint sprayed and splattered onto the canvas.
Johnny was breathing hard now.
Now he was ready, he was energized.
Ready to take on the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With a cover over the painting,
Johnny headed back to the dance.
He hadn’t even entered the building before,
Which meant he still had his ticket.
Johnny threw his ticket to the usher
And made his way over to the DJ.
“Turn off the music for like five minutes. Please.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll give you three dollars
And whatever else is in my pocket.”
“Fine. Five minutes. No more.”
“Thanks.” Johnny smiled.
As soon as the music was off,
Johnny dashed over to Lily
And her giant boyfriend.
He set the painting on the floor
And grabbed her in his arms.
Johnny then kissed her
As passionately as he knew how.
Lily, stunned and confused,
Teetered back onto a chair.
Then, just when the huge brute was about to punch him,
Johnny swiftly clutched the picture and ripped off its cover.
The boyfriend gazed, along with the rest of the crowd,
At the beautiful ******* the canvas.
“You painted this?”
“Yeah.”
“You really love Lily, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you need to kiss her again.”
The ex-boyfriend smiled at Johnny and Johnny smiled back.
He looked over at Lily.
He handed his painting to the ex-boyfriend.
Johnny reached for Lily’s hand,
Wrapped his arms around her.
“Will you, Lily, be my girlfriend?”
Lily gazed into Johnny’s eyes,
Leaned in,
And whispered in his ear,
“Yes.”

Unofficially the love warrior
Locked jaw..inner locked hearts..
Exchanging pain..enduring smiles
Meaningless thoughts
Fading.. as I pull deeper..
What ...have ...I ...come ...to... be..
A
Love warrior
Spread...and conquer
Divide only to reignite...
Shots to the heart...close blank range..
Too Close for comfort
Never comfortable in self
Destruction... intolerable to the unforeseen to the forsaken eye..
Tip toe around passion..French kiss guilt trips..as
Intellectual passionately strokes my love warrior soul..war is an uproar of pain..hurt..love and never being logical..
Warmth with your sweet grace....bless my inner being for loving is always a warrior when attached to something so superficial, self reliance leads to deprivation..loving me takes a warrior.. I break you down only to uplift with greatness that overflow in the fountain of defeat..slowly losing...dying to to belong..love is killing me ...warrior  spirit never letting up...love secretly unfolding times of the essence of being the love warrior..
Nikki.the.goddess

I want you, can’t you see
Kissing and hugging you, showing you the real me.
But also let me be your freak under the sheets.
Let's make love on the couch, in bed or even the backseat.
Kiss me passionately, but don’t undress me just yet.
I want you to tease me, kiss my neck till I’m soaking wet.
Your hands with mine
Seductively put them smoothly on my waistline.
Slowly kiss my stomach and caress my thighs
This is something I’ll never deny.
Go down on me and eat me like never before
Oh baby don't stop and give me more.
The way you look at me is like, “**** baby you is a snack”
Now let me turn around so you can hit it from the back.
Wrap your hands around my hair and pull it hard
and slide it in nice and slow like a credit card.
I like it slow and I like it rough
Do me all night long, I can never get enough.
Make me moan, make me scream
Thinking that we're smashing but it’s just a *******.

-NGM

With lonely nights like this, I keep on questioning my existence:
"What is the purpose of life?", "What is the purpose of my existence?", "Why I'm like this?", "Do I deserve to be loved?"

"Who am I?"

Every once in a while, very unpleasant or disturbing thoughts come into my head. It begs for those questions. I felt plagued by thoughts and images that I couldn't stand but I learned to embrace them with arms wide open, intrusive thoughts are now normal.
It consumed me alive. Beautifully. Wonderfully.
This feels very ****** and embarrassing. I got to admit that I don't really feel like I belong to anywhere. I've found it difficult to relate to anyone. I can't figure out myself, and what I will be everyday.

Here's the thing: I have two souls inside this not-so-**** body.
I feel okay in some days, and less in others.
I'm strong but I'm afraid. I'm tough yet vulnerable.
I was born to be pretentious. Everyday I struggle living a high-functioning public persona at work so I would look normal and ordinary, but in the back of my mind, I am this insane ***** who wants to cut off all of their heads and put it in my altar.
I can easily laugh at silly jokes but I find it more funny if I'll stab people in the face and gouge their eyes out and eat it.
When I am having these morbid thoughts, I just want to sit down in the corner, calm down and not to talk to anyone.
Or listen to Xasthur and meditated. Or take psilocybin mushroom and smoke ****.
Or simply hang myself and dance in the air with the marks of crisscross red in my fair skin (which I sometimes hate because that makes me attractive. I hate being liked for how I look. You'll never hear anyone says "Hey, check out the brain on that babe." Sad truth.)

I always believe that life in itself serves no ultimate purpose.
Life is meaningless but we need to live for the mean time.
Although, it is not the reason why I am sad, depressed, and lonely. Since everything is pointless for me, there's no point of choosing to be sad but it looks like sadness took me over and made a home out of her.

Even I am creepy at times, I am still this girl who loves Disney and just wants to wear a long white dress and run into the magical woods to find my prince who will kiss me passionately and save me from this agony. I am that desperate in seeking love in this universe I need to live in, but also desperately avoiding it. So, after that kiss, I will push him away because I cannot stay. I have nothing to give. Nothing matters, even myself. This is why I lose people in my life. Because who would choose to stay with someone who can't even figure herself out? Who would be willing to walk to the end of the earth to find out these things with her?

These are the thoughts I cannot simply tell anyone. I feel so shallow for feeling everything so deep. Why can't I be ordinary and follow the norm? I don't have the answers yet. I don't think I will ever have. All I know is that I have two voices inside my head.

I don't know how to express that I feel so empty without making it sound so sad?
I wish I weren't so sad, I wish I didn't want to disappear in the darkness right away so I could stay happy in this dimension, even for a while.

I feel like I am trapped in a book.
I don't know what page I am right now, but I hope that this page will be ripped off and will have no important role in the story, so if I'm gone, the characters of the book wouldn't mourn for someone who didn't even want to exist.

But as much as I would want to, this book that I am in is not yet finished so I need to continue with my role.
Whoever the invisible space phantom that watches over us,
Please take me to the inevitable end. Or write another story where my name will not be written.
Because I am tired of spending my life dying inside.

I promised my PATI.. a chapati for breakfast
A plain chapati I passionately learnt to make
Oh.. What an impression I will make...
A marvelous chapati and a glass of milk
I will prepare with all my heart..
A SUPERB Chapati from a BIWI to her PATI..

I am a BAHU.... an obedient BAHU...to my SASU MAA..
Ohh and she will brag ... I am the best BAHU...
The best in India if not in the world...
I am so proud... What a chapati maker I am..
A super BIWI.. an obedient BAHU...
I will make superbb.... chapati...
The whole India will dance with me...
Dance in my kitchen with me....

But my SASUR requested for a Masala Chapati
And he wanted it for lunch... today
for dinner tonight and for breakfast tomorrow..
An obedient Bahu... I am.... A super Biwi I am..
Ohhh ...I am no MASALA CHAPATI maker...
Plain chapati... plain chapati thats what i learnt...

I searched for a recipe... MASALA CHAPATi...
Butter,Chilli and coriander powder..
I cook them all together...
Cumin seeds, vegetablas and GARAM MASALA..
Ohh la la la.... here goes the chapati masala...

Oppss... when everything is set..
My SALI comes to check....
AMMI JI.... AMMI JI... she called..
My MASALA CHAPATI is about to ready...

My pati.. my sasu maa... my sasur and my Sali
We all sit together..
My cooking smells good..
When MASALA CHAPATI is served....
They all smile and look at me...
WHAT?? IS THIS MASALA CHAPATI????
And we all dance on the kitchen floor....

Taking Flight
Soar Off The Ground
And We Were Lost To Be Found
Fly Above Commotion
Fueled By Emotion
Transition To The Ocean
An Abyss
Of Bliss
Because The Sky I Kissed
Let Me Drowned
There Was No Sound
Just A Geometric Playground
Dissipate Now
To Euphoric Dust
Empathy
And LSD
Ritually
Taken So Compassionately
Passionately
Lucid
Confused By This
Cosmic Dream
Tore From The Seams
Pathless
But I Let Go Of This
Let Go
Just To Flow
To Melodic Assumptions
Melody Had Me Elated
The Light Sensation
Liquid Creations
Creating Aquatic
Sounds Of The Sonic
Vibrations
Vibrating
Dilating
Pupils Dilated
And It Reflects Back To Me
Reflect The Patterns To My Moves
And I Move With The Motion
Loved And Infinite.

Tough girl isn't afraid of much
Tough girl is strong
And brave
Tough girl has mastered the art of apathy
The science of not giving a ****
She is confident
And swift
Tough girl has trained herself not to care
Walks with confidence
Keeps her head up
She is a whirlwind of resilience
Withstanding each disaster
Every hurricane
She refuses to let the world break her down
Her skin
Is a combination of metals
Her smile, a shield
Bone made of iron
She is incapable of corrosion
Her heart always guarded
She is unbreakable
Knows how to put up a fight
And win
She doesn't give in
And no matter how hard people try
To bring her down
She doesn't let them get to her
But I
Am not her
Our resemblance is uncanny
And I have the ability to pretend
To fake a sense of pride long enough to believe it
A concoction of false courage
And intimidation
But she
Is not me
Tough girl is everything I have ever tried to be
Having spent hours practicing blank stares
And learning how to walk
Like the ground below you isn't breaking
Trying to breathe like there isn't a storm building within
Resistance is a skill I have spent forever trying to build
But I am not solid
I am not tough
I am softness that wears rough around the edges
A jacket built of barriers
With barbed wire skin
All of this protection
And I somehow still manage
To frequently break open
I am not a super hero
I can barely save myself
Let alone anyone else
And as much as I wish I was
I am not tough girl
As much as we look alike
As similar as we seem
I am not she
I care too much
Think too deeply
And love too passionately
But I'm starting to realize
That maybe
It's not such a bad thing
Maybe the girl
I've been trying to be all along
Is not as put together as she seems
Those who appear fine
Are often the ones coming apart at the seams
I may not be tough girl
But I can still make believe.

he stood before them
lifted his flute to his lips
soulfully inhaled
they waited for the magic
he played not a single note

he stood there as if
******* passionately
with body english
the crowd paused for a minute
suspended in the quand'ry

the light bulb came on
and they busted up laughing
as he continued
in his silent happiness
he loved the "gotcha" moment


Del Maximo
© June 13, 2009

Once more-I am condemned to t'is unmentionable solitude;
And so is my grief-my grief t'at hath been passionately seducing me-of late;
And neither clear dusks, nor vivid twilight, hath helped ease out my mind's servitude;
Even strokes of civil light-to whom I submitteth my visions; on whom I may rest my fate.

Ah, he who was once immortal-and still is,
His suffering is mine-and thus as reeking of malice,
He, who hath the tenderest of charms, and lips;
He, whom my heart abides by, and chooses to keep.

But his whereabouts hath been unknown, and a lie to my whole passage;
Still whenever I roamed yon outside region, he was nowhere within my sight;
He who hath been both sincerity and a malice in his own timeless age;
He who hath been indulged by my morns, and cooed to, by my night's impatient moonlight.

Ah, how canst he be but so unfair?
He left my poetry to myself, within t'is mistaken five-wheeled chair;
I am now anxious, strangely; about my own wealth of poetic torrents;
My mind feels humid, but itself hath been ferociously abused-like the mind of a fiend.

And to him my suffering is dear-for to its shrieks he showeth but contempt;
He laughs at it and locks it away in its misery-with not one drop of shame;
Ah, he is too impulsive to think of farther, and far too lame;
He is too wild-and darkly scented like night; but as well evil, and too slippery, to blame.

Thus I am but pain, and the whole world next to me is fear;
I knoweth I should drifteth away, but my ears, and insides-insisteth on staying here;
As if the crude, lying love were truthful-and easefully sitting near;
And couldst promise to cause me no more tears.

And thinking of thee sheds only more unwanted blood;
And t'is indeed, remains something I wanteth not;
For of which hath been spilled too much, and which hath torn away my heart;
For I shall not any more saint thee; and removeth thee from any further crafted story plot.

And so thou art not to be any farther painted;
For thou hath left any beauty abandoned, and too simperingly hesitated;
Thou made me feel betrayed, and teased my whole, productive solitudes;
Thou sent my glittering heart still; thou faltered my dignity-and more severely, more glorious youth.

Thou tampered with me like thou shalt doth an old proverb;
For thou detestest any poetry; and cursest any defining melodies, or verbs;
Thou tantalized my verses, but mercilessly flew and ran away;
Thou vanished my glimmering worlds; and harmed my cheery authorial days.

And thy accusations of me hath but been too vehement;
Like thou thyself owneth over me a verdurous tyranny;
Thou hath been too proud, whenst thou hath only but a grievous impediment;
And her, who was darkly born as a devil; and in whom there is neither desire, nor humanity.

And like her yesterday, thou art now too proud, and befalleth my private senses of humanity;
As she desired, thou hath now grown selfish, and tender not like before;
Sadly all t'is thou realiseth not, and instead taketh easily as mere profound felicity;
And thy passion hath likewise gone, 'till t'is saddened world ends, and existeth no more.

I am here all madness-madness t'at to its impertinent soul-is brilliant;
Brilliant to t'ose who are blind to feelings, just like his deaf soul perhaps is;
But madness, still I regard-as although infamy, deeply pleasant;
For it shall lead t'is ignored poetry to satisfaction, and widening secret bliss.

But either there is love or not love, shall I respect and be loyal to poetry;
Even though thou chooseth to follow her and forget our whole, significant glory;
I shall keepeth silent, and still be thankful for my taste-and untainted virginity;
I shall be proud of my true doings, and my equanimious love, for thee.

And my love shan't ever be bought at any price, nor even priceless syllable;
As well my triumphant words-for to them, aside from loyalty, nothing more is desirable;
For I believeth rewards are only for them who reserveth, and professeth, loyalty;
And for in every endurance there are charms, and even more agreeable, royalty.

And shalt never ever thou findeth my purity, and love, be tiresomely divided;
For my love is secure, and shall love its beloved all devotedly, and unaided;
My love, as reflected by poetry, is abundant, though sometimes childish-and even soundless;
But still terrific as rainbow, though more silent and tuneless; as one symbol of my loyalty, and truthfulness.

And accordingly, somehow, amongst thy invisibility-I senseth thee still, amongst yon verified air;
Of whose whims I am not afraid; of whose ill threats I was not once scared.
For t'is solitude, and its due poetry I hath undergone-hath deeply had my finest self purified;
For it hath been my friend-and indeed not thee; sadly not thee, for thou thyself hath chosen to be far, and left unspecified.

Like all of those beings, perhaps thou art the one also too silly;
For to love thou stayeth idle, and bothereth not to ever look at-for fear of purifying thy glory;
Thou art still one 'mongst 'em, who claimeth love is no higher than gold;
And thus deserving of me not-for as thou saith-love is trivial, and its seclusion canst be sold.

Slowly and soft
Playing, laughing, experimenting
Relaxed and happy
Then passionately and long
Cheeks, lips, jaw, neck, and lips again
Deep and *******
Forehead to the belly button
Behind the neck to bump down

Rubbing nose and cheeks
Pressing lips
Fondling ******* and ****
Cuddling with ears
Embracing eyes, looking shy
Spices of variety
Bare skin
A touch of sensation
Against a wall, on the ground
Or in my hands, over me, into each other
Tightly locked, so soothing
A spider web
Searching hands, unexplored regions
Wet and moist
Taking a break
Doing it all over again
and again
and again
Until
the morning rushes upon us

She's like a Lana Del Rey Song
Beautiful, deep, and once it gets stuck in your head - you can't get it out

She's beautiful in more ways than one, maybe it's her personality or it's the way her hair falls past her shoulders or maybe it's the way she looks at you with those eyes. Oh Those eyes that makes your heart race because you know they're on you. Those eyes you wish you could wake up to them in the morning. You find her actions cute and maybe that's another reason why you think she's beautiful. The way she calls you an ******* when you tease her the fact that you and her can have a cute playful relationship. Her giggle her laugh it's so beautiful, you can't help but to smile when you hear it probably because it's so rare to hear. She's beautiful because she is someone that you find interesting and interesting people are hard to come by now a days. Her soul though - you find the most beautiful. The type of person she is. What makes her so beautiful? You think to yourself - it's everything literally everything and you understand she may not understand but you do and well that's enough because you'll make her understand it. You want her to see herself the way you see her.

She's deep in oh so many ways, she writes poetry and reads literature. She's intelligent and it's like a breath of fresh air. When you speak to her even though it maybe about nothing at all so much is being spoken - it's not just in one ear and out the other words it's actual conversation. Those words, her words stick to you. You want to discuss the world with her and her views on life. You want to listen to anything and everything she has to say as she smokes her cigarette. You want to see the world through her eyes even if it's just for a moment. You want to know everything you can about her, the good as well as the bad. You want to know the person she is, you want to know what goes on in her head. Is there a war in her mind like yours? Or is her mind peaceful? She is the exact opposite of you, yet you and her are the same. Would that make sense to her if you tried to explain it? Eh you hope so. Then again would you even explain it to her? Probably not because you'll probably never share this with her for the soul reason of being too afraid to share your thoughts on someone like her to her. You're also too afraid she won't feel the same way, and that scares you.

Then again just like a Lana Del Rey song she can be dark and it's not her fault and she can't help it. But do you care she has a dark side and messing with her is like playing Russian roulette? No in fact - you want to play. You want to take that chance, you think her imperfections make her absolutely perfect. You want to hold her in your arms, you want to push her against the wall and make out with her. You want to prove to her that not all people will **** her over, that there are people YOU who want to give her everything even the things she never knew she wanted until she had them. Others have just let her walk out of their life's like she was nothing. You think to yourself, you would never do that because you are not an ******* like the rest. You want to prove to her that she matters in more ways than one. You want to prove to her that she's worth every ounce of energy you can muster up. Most importantly though - if she left, if she ever wanted to leave would you let her walk out of your life just as easy as all the rest? No you would put up a fight to make her stay, even if that meant getting on a plane immediately to go be with her to tell her she's being ridiculous as you kiss her deeply to clam her down.

She's get stuck in your head and you won't be able to get her out, and you know what? That's okay because just like a Lana Del Rey song those lyrics so hauntingly beautiful you want her in your head. You want to think about what she's doing and if she's thinking about you at that very second. You think about the possibilities of you crossing her mind and if you do does she smile? You sure do hope so. You often wonder what it would be like to kiss her lips and feel her small frame against yours, it's probably pure bliss you think to yourself. You want to kiss her passionately to Burning Desire because for some reason that songs speaks to you about her, and grab her hips holding her close to Gods & Monsters because it's the first Lana song she sang to you and in some way that song is our song. However maybe it's just our song to me, although hopefully it is to her. But you want this and you want that, you can only hope she wants the same. Please want the same you think to yourself. You also wonder what it would be like to drag your teeth against her skin and kiss every inch of her body, yeah I'm sure it's complete bliss. You want her, you want her.

She's like a Lana Del Rey song that's so hauntingly beautiful that you want to leave on repeat.

-soc

I am not a poet,
Never intended to be one.
I am not a singer,
Nor can I sing swell.
I am not an actor,
As I cannot fake about anything.
I am not a painter,
As colors are all same precious to me.
I am not a dancer,
As I understand no rhythm.
I am not a performer,
As stage is not my world.
I do not really know what I am,
But I am definitely not something I don’t intend to be.
I am rather a person who fail at everything,
Yet passionately stand at feet,
Yearn to learn.
I am an ARTESS…
I rather master the art or die trying..
I am an ARTESS…
And all art is my Imagination within the living dream, I dream.
I am an ARTESS..
And I never intend to stop creating a masterpiece for the peace of my world.
I am nothing at all,
But I am everything.
I am a Dreamer,
My dreams that I imagine  are my art.
I thrive to make them true..

From pent-up aching rivers,
From that of myself without which I were nothing,
From what I am determin’d to make illustrious, even if I stand sole
   among men,
From my own voice resonant, singing the phallus,
Singing the song of procreation,
Singing the need of superb children and therein superb grown people,
Singing the muscular urge and the blending,
Singing the bedfellow’s song, (O resistless yearning!
O for any and each the body correlative attracting!
O for you whoever you are your correlative body! O it, more than all
   else, you delighting!)
From the hungry gnaw that eats me night and day,
From native moments, from bashful pains, singing them,
Seeking something yet unfound though I have diligently sought it
   many a long year,
Singing the true song of the soul fitful at random,
Renascent with grossest Nature or among animals,
Of that, of them and what goes with them my poems informing,
Of the smell of apples and lemons, of the pairing of birds,
Of the wet of woods, of the lapping of waves,
Of the mad pushes of waves upon the land, I them chanting,
The overture lightly sounding, the strain anticipating,
The welcome nearness, the sight of the perfect body,
The swimmer swimming naked in the bath, or motionless on his back
   lying and floating,
The female form approaching, I pensive, love-flesh tremulous aching,
The divine list for myself or you or for any one making,
The face, the limbs, the index from head to foot, and what it
   arouses,
The mystic deliria, the madness amorous, the utter abandonment,
(Hark close and still what I now whisper to you,
I love you, O you entirely possess me,
O that you and I escape from the rest and go utterly off, free and
   lawless,
Two hawks in the air, two fishes swimming in the sea not more
   lawless than we;)
The furious storm through me careering, I passionately trembling.
The oath of the inseparableness of two together, of the woman that
   loves me and whom I love more than my life, that oath swearing,
(O I willingly stake all for you,
O let me be lost if it must be so!
O you and I! what is it to us what the rest do or think?
What is all else to us? only that we enjoy each other and exhaust
   each other if it must be so;)
From the master, the pilot I yield the vessel to,
The general commanding me, commanding all, from him permission
   taking,
From time the programme hastening, (I have loiter’d too long as it
   is,)
From ***, from the warp and from the woof,
From privacy, from frequent repinings alone,
From plenty of persons near and yet the right person not near,
From the soft sliding of hands over me and thrusting of fingers
   through my hair and beard,
From the long sustain’d kiss upon the mouth or *****,
From the close pressure that makes me or any man drunk, fainting
   with excess,
From what the divine husband knows, from the work of fatherhood,
From exultation, victory and relief, from the bedfellow’s embrace in
   the night,
From the act-poems of eyes, hands, hips and bosoms,
From the cling of the trembling arm,
From the bending curve and the clinch,
From side by side the pliant coverlet off-throwing,
From the one so unwilling to have me leave, and me just as unwilling
   to leave,
(Yet a moment O tender waiter, and I return,)
From the hour of shining stars and dropping dews,
From the night a moment I emerging flitting out,
Celebrate you act divine and you children prepared for,
And you stalwart *****.

If I stayed any longer,
Who knows?
I might have gone insane too.

He told me his name.
I never asked him why he was there,
Why everyone else avoided him.  

I regret it now
But now is not the time,
There is no time left.  

He said he could get out
Whenever he wanted.
He just had no reason to go.  
He told me if I would come with him,
Stay with him forever, we’d leave.  

Can you imagine that?
He even said he loved me.  
The weirdest part is, I think I loved him to.
I would keep trying to remember
Where this love was taking place,
In this asylum but, I always forgot.

All we had to do was walk out.  
Nobody touched us.  
When we were out, we ran, and ran, and ran.  
In the middle of the forest,
There was no way they could find us,
We still wanted to be safe.

We found a cave in which we could stay,
Until we had enough strength to explore.
There was plenty of apples and firewood around.  
That first night, I just ate, and ate, and ate.  

I noted the big willow tree
and boulder next to the exit.
Natural, and calm.
This was a place of my refuge,
Where I would be happy.

We set out to explore,
The cave must have been close to the surface,
There were cracks in the ceiling that lit our way.
The cave was filled with tunnel after tunnel.  
Sometimes the tunnel would split into five or six
And we would have to choose one.
Giving the false sense of direction
As we wandered, aimless.
  
When I got scared,
He would assure me it would all be fine.
That must have been the worst lie,
Anyone has ever told me.

I finally worked up the courage
To ask him why he was in the asylum.  
He told me he could fool the mind.
Fool it into believing its body was in pain,
He said his looks could ****.

I scoffed.  

He stared at me,
Completely bewildered.  
I clearly thought him insane.  
He let that slide.  

He never kissed me fully, passionately.  
They were always short and sweet.  
He only brushed my face
When he wanted me to calm down,
Making jokes whenever
I was having second thoughts.
  
He was using me.  
I was a shield, nothing more.  
I would have to be disposed of.

Back to staring,
I realized that his back
Is not made of duck feathers.
My scoff doesn't slide.

I ran faster I’d ever run before.
All this flew through my mind
As I scrambled up from the cave floor for the third time.
The exit was just around the corner.
It just had to be.  

As I stumbled back
Onto the cold hard rock
The exit came into view.
I saw the light shimmering on the broken rock.
The shadow of a willow tree.
Ironically I was so happy I could cry.  
I’d hide in the trees
I’d never have to see this murderer again.  
Tripped for the fourth time.

I looked up,
Still sprawled out on the cave floor.  
There was a hole in the ceiling,
Sending shattered shafts of light to where I was lying.  
I watched the dust fall in lazy spirals.

I jumped off the floor.
Back to my peril,  
I heard his sluggish footsteps.
Turned around for one last look.
He stood in those shattered beams of light
Glaring at me.

Now on my feet, I stood
In the dark half of the spacious hall of rock
As if that would help my situation.  
If only I could fade into the shadows.  
I was trapped.
With no escape but the cave's tunnels behind me,
Or the death awaiting me.  

Just a few more steps back.  

He’s eyes snapped to my feet,
"You don’t want to do that.”
Back to my face.
His smile was only evident in his voice.
He was right.  
I didn’t want to die in that moment.  

The room’s light darkened
As if someone had put out the sun.
I knew it was coming.

I loved him.
He may not love me now.
He may never have.
But I don’t care.  
If I never loved him,
I may not be in this situation,
I might not be about to die.  
But I think just maybe,
It was worth it.  

Those smiles,
Stolen kisses and touches,
Just the sound of his voice.
Running in the middle of the forest
Away from the asylum.
It was all worth the pain I was about to feel.  

We stood staring at each other,
Waiting for the other to make the first move.  
The tension mounted.
Hatred started coming off him in waves,  
Hitting me over and over
Threatening to pull me under.  
I could feel his anger.

The air seemed to thicken,
Weighing down on me,
Forcing from me my last breath.
Draining me of what little strength
I had left to remain standing.

I began to gasp for air,
Unable to feel my lungs expand.
Feel the relief of oxygen in my blood.  
My eyes were locked in his
Begging to turn away,
To save my life.  

I was mesmerized.
Like prey waiting for the snake to strike  
I watched helplessly as his face,
Distorted with anger, began to twitch.  

I could see the words that would end this,
Begin to form on his lips.
Waiting to be released.
***** off his spit stained *****.  
After the agony of anticipation seemed to reach its peak.  
They dropped like acid into the open air.

I lost the fight against the pressure.
Finally crumbling under the strain,
I rested on my knees.
Holding my head in my hands
Preparing to resist the attack.

It hit me full force
Like a subway train at full speed.
I did all I could not to cry out,
To give in to this miserable existence,
To give him the satisfaction of my death.  

I broke out in a cold sweat
As my muscles continued to fight,
Melting with the strain.  
Adrenaline pumped through my veins
As the true attack began.  

The pain started at the tips of my fingers and toes.  
Slowly crawling, burning,
It continued to eat away at my flesh.  

Much to my dismay
I remained intact
But paralyzed by the pain
Unable to run away,
To escape it.

I was unaware of the storm of tears
Falling from my cheeks.  
Oblivious that he continued to circle closer,
Waiting for his moment to strike.  

The pain began to worsen,
Shifting from fire to lava,
Lava to lightning.  
It was unimaginable, indescribable.

Then I lost control.
This body– it was no longer mine.
It began to betray me.  
It shuddered, then shook spasmodically.  

Its back arched knowing what was to come next,
Preparing as the bubble of air was pushed slowly
Up its tongue, against its lips.
Its blood curdling,
Gut wrenching shriek
Lasted mere hundredths of a second.

He comes into view for a brief moment.
My eyes roll back into my head,
And I lose myself in the blackness.