Haunt me. Sometimes it annoys me how much time I spend daydreaming about You. It shouldn’t be this intense. Surely I am not a love struck puppy clinging to this idea that You could possibly be as in love as I am. It’s slightly distributing. In a completely devoted to You way. It is a beautiful seduction. Pulling me down. You are like quicksand. Deadly and powerful. Complete love. Something so magical and sacred yet terrifyingly alive. I’m saturated by You. I’m going to go now. Try to distract myself from my constant Obsession. I’ll pretend I haven’t changed and been highjacked by You. I’m scared and awake and so ready to be filled with You.
When I’m lazy, as some days are, I stay at home or don’t go far.
My mind can’t stop and my body won’t go, so onto social media I flow.
Sometimes I rhyme and then I might stop.
I let the words fill up the white space on the page, and as I do so, my breathing slows. It’s like a tap, dripping my thoughts.
Drip – why am I so lazy?
Whisper – Sometimes your brain can’t choose what to do so it chooses to do nothing.
Drip – How can I do things I’m not capable of doing?
Whisper – Depend on My power.
Drip – what if I am not doing enough?
A whisper – even non doing is doing with the right mindset. Simply be.
Drip – I’m afraid I might let you down.
Whisper – I have not given you the spirit of fear.
Drip- what if I can’t do it all or do it well?
The quiet whisper from the land without time, you already did.
Drip – I love you Lord.
Whisper – I loved you first.
I’m burning with passion consumed by your love. I never imagined this gift from above would strip down my mistrust, peel back my fear. Show me with certainty your presence is near. I’m captivated by you, in Love with your touch, I never knew I could love you this much. Your more than I ever imagined I’d find. You love haunts my spirit and saturates my mind. I’m addicted to your magic. Never let me go. I’ll be yours forever. I love more than you know.
I thought you were never going to disappear.
I thought you loved me too;
At least in some weird way.
I thought we were meant to be.
If only for a moment.
We needed each other.
Guess we don’t anymore.
Or do we?
I guess I’ll never know
Or will I?
The choice is yours.
I’ll always love you.
But I’m tired of always being the one
To reach out,
To miss you,
To think about us
If there ever was an us
Perhaps you were a figment of my imagination all along
Never really real.
Why I’m always searching for and never really finding you.
How two people can be so close while so far apart.
When the bubble will burst, and the fantasy will flop.
What our story will be after the climax.
Who will fall apart first.
If our love will survive.
You stopped my world.
In a crowded room, there was only you,
And we both knew it.
At least I fantasize that you knew too.
Life was life.
I had a boyfriend and told you he might answer the phone, but I still gave you my number, because I knew it was you.
Not sure what would have happened if you called, but I’ve always wondered what life would have been.
I’ll forgive you because of tonight.
We are meant to be together.
I knew it then.
I’ve never forgotten it.
Never forgotten you.
Did that really happen?
Are you real?
The touch of your skin,
The taste of your lips,
Your mouth on my breast,
Was that real?
It can’t be.
People don’t make out with strangers.
People don’t mysteriously connect on the side of the road, after a brief meeting which might have been a dream 12 or 13 years ago.
People don’t have soul mates, or soul-friends-with-benefits, or soul strangers.
There’s no such thing as meant to be.
But I’ll tell you this,
Will never leave me.
Just like those few minutes so many years ago.
Whether that was the same you,
Or merely the you of that moment.
Whether then or tonight really even happened,
Or they were drug induced dreams.
You, are the one I’ve been hoping to find.
Thank you for being real.
Stop playing me.
Stop using me.
Stop toying with me.
Stop taking advantage of me.
Stop hurting me.
Stop destroying me and then reviving me so you can destroy me again.
I’m so tired of it.
Tired of hoping.
Tired of caring.
Tired of thinking.
Tired of you.
So stop. Go away or come back so I can pretend I don’t want you to leave.
Maybe I don’t.
Maybe all I want is for you to stop.
I had the strangest dream last night.
I must admit it felt so right.
I was alone, (or so it seemed)
Till it appeared, (or so I dreamed).
The rarely seen, mysterious beast
Upon whom I like to feast.
It drew me in, this twitching string.
I played the cat, clawed at the thing.
Focus on, my mind entranced
Spellbound as the string danced.
I finally caught the elusive thing;
That taunting, disappearing string.
It felt so good between my paws,
Tasting it within my jaws.
Did I play with it, or it with me?
One day the truth I just might see.
It doesn’t matter either way,
The game is fun when both can play.
But now it’s time to groom my fur.
To rub a leg and start to purr.
One day we will meet again.
My muse, and captivating friend.
You came upon me one long night, Or was it me drawn to your plight? It doesn’t matter very much Except those nights I miss your touch. It’s those that have me wondering, Why did your words make my … Continue reading
So many people have an idea of what “happily ever after” looks like. I realized tonight that my “happily ever after” doesn’t look anything like the typical hopes and dreams most people have.
Some of us are cut from a different mold, and maybe, just maybe, it is okay to want something different. I will always value the fairy tale from a literary standpoint, and I am hopeful for those who choose to follow that path.
My own story will have a much different ending, hopefully still filled with excitement and adventure, but I don’t want a fairy tale prince (or princess for that matter).
I think some people are meant to be alone, and I honestly think I’m one of them. Why should that be a sad thing?
I want passionate lovers to color the pages of my book, but I want to be the author of the story. I want whirlwind romances to sweep me off my feet, but am I wrong for hoping they don’t linger too long?
I’m a writer. Maybe not the best writer, but can a fairy tale still exist without the romantic “and they lived happily ever after” at the end? Continue reading