Months have passed since I last seen your face,
Touched your skin, the scent of your lovely purfume,
Oh my, how I have longed for my lips to meet your once more...
But I pinky promise myself No More,
The aches and pains seem to supress day by day as I take leaps forward,
Staying occupied and savoring the moments in My life,
which seems to be the antibiotics to this so called "Heart Break,"
I made new friends and new potential lovers and you see me.
You contact me to make conversation to keep me at arms length once more,
But burn me once shame on you, burn me twice shame on me,
You will not deceive me again, to leave me broken hearted once more,
Medusa, I see through your stone cold eyes,
I have worked to hard and made a promise I tend to keep,
I tell you everything is fine, which it is since I have learned to live again without you.
The love I had for you once upon a time is no more,
But I will say this I Will keep the wisdom you have given me,
I thank you for pushing me towards being a stronger person and lover,
I just hope that what you did was worth it to you,
As I give you words of advice I tell you,
"Dont treat your next as your last,
Or you will have no problem repeating the past,"
I see tears running from your eyes,
As I can see the regret in them,
As our eyes meet our lips meet once more,
and you smile,
The last words you heard from me as you watched my back this time around was,
"I'm sorry, please take care of yourself but, No More."


{RP}

Tis but a dream!
Flowing wildly,
Intae tha memories
Tha goals, tha desires,
Delving intae tha deepths
Touching tha he'rt,
Romancing tha soul
Exciting tha senses,
Pulling at tha emotions.

Tis but a dream!
Aye sae true,
Yet e'er sae real
an' yin begins tae act,
within its wonnerous play
Rememmering,
such nichts
Her purfume, her form,
An all else fades
Save for her touch,
Her smile, her love.

For she tis but a phantom,
A ghost O lang ago
That haunts nue my e'er dream.
Tis but a dream?
Aye ,tis but a dream!
Tis but a dream!


Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Theres an old cabin at the edge of the ocean, where salt and the summer sun are trapped in it's aging wood. Small peices of the past still linger within it's walls. Like ripples leading us through worm holes, and back into thier arms. The scent of purfume softly misted within the passing breeze, will feel like its stopped the world around you.

As you close your eyes in the moment, you could still feel the sensation of their warm lips grazing yours. The unforgettable feeling of thier body heat dancing around you. The oils from the fingertips, pressed firmly against your jaw line.

Thier essence slowly fading, but never quite gone.

Air.
Earth.
Home.
Laundry soap.
Thin aura of cleaning supplies.
Faint stench of the fancy life.
Of a higher power.
Of a higher division in the levels of Society.
Distant expenses of cologne and purfume.
But mostly the aura of cleaning supplies.