Jan 10, 2017
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Read my lips. Taste my thoughts. Because that would tell you who I truly am. #me #openmybook #tastemythoughts
Park Bench
To me there’s nothing more attractive than a wooden park bench lonely in the fall weather. You tell me the trees are made of bark, or you whisper a love serum into my space. Between my eyes and the leaves and any beautiful soul who’d happen to join me. At the place where rhythms turn to time and the clock never changes because I can always see her soul smiling. Cameras can take pictures, but nothing can take this moment. I’d fight for it with my teeth, I’d cut off my legs, and carve my bones into a sword and shield to protect this moment. I’d give you all of my heaven, but please! Don’t take this moment from me. Join it if you’d like. I’ll serve you my favorite dish: bliss, fun and tranquility.
Something feels better about the winter. I know she loves it too. I always pictured she did before I even met her. I always pictured rolling in the snow and kissing her forehead as she took her knife and stabbed into my brain cutting each piece into little inches and tasting them for herself. Yum! Perhaps she would burn them so no one would ever know that I even existed. Nah! I’m just joking. #gorymetaphor. But rolling in the snow wearing gloves and jackets. Holding her in my arms! I can’t wait! So may be this bench does need a little snow…. But I want to move to Sydney! Grr. I guess I’ll have to find a better place to move. Peace and love!
...seductively fiendish
Silken sheets twisting, white knuckled thoughts, teeth grinding passion, naked bodies fought. Pushing first then pulling, fierce actions played, silent screams erupting, from begging lips displayed. Violent kisses smothering, threatening a final taste of air, life stealing emotions, are given away without a care. Your fingerprints become my weakness, bruising my body where they belong. The overwhelming marks left upon me like art... to another would look so very, very wrong. :::artaddict69:::
Why.
Why couldn't I be blessed with a pretty face? Why couldn't I have the "perfect body"? Why can't guys look at me and think I'm pretty? Why just why? Why can't I fit into this society? Why do I feel like I don't belong? Why, is the only question I ask myself everyday. Why, just why?