Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Booty calls and cigarettes.


You stare at me. I don’t even dare to look at you. I just look at the smoke dancing its way out of your mouth. My thoughts scattered all over the blankets. How difficult I find it to recollect them when you ask me what’s on my mind. I don’t know what you think of me.
I could write about your perfume that still lingers on my clothes. I could write about our potential as a couple and how sad it is that no one opened up. I could write about the man I loved and he abandoned me. But unfortunately the cold I caught yesterday won’t even let me smell that chocolate cake in the oven. And unfortunately I didn’t want to open up. I keep on being emotionally unavailable. Not loving, not falling in love. And you? I don’t even know if you have abandoned me. You, remain a mystery.
I just assume we are mutually taking advantage of each other, each one for our own personal reasons.


“There are plenty reasons to have sex. It can be a result of lust, loneliness, insecurity or even the need to take your mind of your problems.”
“What about love?”
What about love, indeed?

It’s a good thing we have sexually matured. Liberated enough to have sex with whoever we want, but not enough to escape criticism. Free enough to pay for it, but not enough to tell the world.
Fitting clothes, high heels, ties, make up, colognes; how they hide all our insecurities.
Funny, how willing we are to open our legs, but not our hearts. How everyone nowadays, has a sex life, but not a love life. Convenient, how you can wake up next to someone you don’t love.

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