Saturday, April 21, 2012

Wicked game





A scribbled note that said my name. 
I loved it when you said my name. 
The way you said my name. 
A heart next to it. 
Next to numbers. 
Numbers that added up to nothing; 
numbers that confused me. 
19, 20, 21. 

Maybe it was fate. 

You, 
coming here, 
talking to me out of the blue. 


Forbidden words that flew out of your mouth. I caught them all and put them into a small cage. Words you never say to others. Words that show stuff maybe I wasn’t ready to know. I remember everything. Every single touch, every suggestion, everything we did together. The part where the parallel lines met; where I was in your future plans. Where I wished I was solid. Where am I in your plans?

I never called you my friend. Maybe because I didn’t want us to be friends. Because maybe, just maybe there was something more to it. Maybe it was just a fling; or an idea; or me wanting something different. Maybe you were what were going to save me. It was just that this time, it was more than just the outside. 


January passed, February passed. Now I’m left with that cage. I don’t want the cage anymore. It’s over. I thought I could start calling you my friend. I think you left though.

And your eyes were the size of the moon once.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

A letter to Rome





You say love, I say lust.
You say flesh, I say soul.

This is hell.
Hell with just a pinch of heaven,
yet enough to make me love my suffering.
And every night I reminisce
how your presence gets me drunk
and your aura makes me sick;
sick with desire.

Love.
Such a plain word for such a
terribly wonderful,
wonderfully terrible,
feeling.

How many confessions does it take for you to fall in love with me?
How many years before my thoughts take shape and hunt you?

You have sucked my innocence and twisted my mind.

And every night I crumble into million pieces and they all land in your heart.
So twirl with me into the darkness.
Eradicate my existence;
for I only exist in your sighs.
Then drink my soul so I can forever be yours.
My last words shall be the whisper of your name.


From all my vices you were the most injurious.

Dedicated to no one.
Inspired by no one.