Shit Happens.


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This is not a post.
This is just an acknowledgment of the two most truthful words ever said.

Cheers!

What are you not saying?

My eyes need to talk to you.
The words can wait.

My silence needs to tell you stories.
The words can wait.

My soul needs resuscitation.
The words can wait.

My senses need some answers.
The words can wait.

My skin has made memories. Of your first caress. Of your searing touch. Of how your single surprising soft fingertip turned unsuspecting bits of my body into epicentres of erotica.
My ears remember how your voice grows heavy, alike with passion and poetry.
My eyes have framed yours, looking like a kid in a candy store.
My lungs seek that pine fresh smell tucked away somewhere next to my pillow. I bury my face and get lost in the woods of wonder.
Lovely. Dark. And deep.
My mouth remembers pouring out the longing it never thought it had.
My dreams dance around you in dizzying circles.
My words remember how feeble they felt beneath the captivating pressure of your poetry.
My heart is banging on the doors of forever with every now that we captured.
My head echoes with your declarations of love. It rings with the intensity of your passion.
The time to measure life in coffee spoons is gone. I need gulps to satiate the thirst you awakened in me. The greed you unleashed.
My soul lies bare and begs for yours to lie beside, basking in the damnation of forbidden love.

My body needs to speak to yours.
Words, they can wait.

I blew smoke into the eyes of sleep. I made him lose his way. Then I lay down with my eyes shut. Arms wide open. Welcoming him. Even praying that he'll find his way. Somehow. I'm sorry. But in this haze of self-brewed pain, I can't tell the line between lovesadismmasochism.

there was so much love left

to give
to take
to find
to make

an unsaid need
to express the unsaid
a desperate attempt
to capture the vagueness
a passionate pursuit
of the eternal evasion
a willful abandon
that ends in epiphany

the joy of
not knowing
not wanting
not doing
but still getting

The fresh page looks at me
From atop my table
I stare back
Just as blank
We spend long minutes together
Like old friends
She, waiting for me to speak
I, wanting her to decode my silence
A smile, a sob
She'd settle for anything
She knows she can take it from there
But I'm so full of emptiness
I've given up on myself
All I can spare
Is a colourless stare

Random.

I may not find out
Till I'm dead
What is better left
Unsaid.

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I'll know you have
A sense of humour, honey
When you stop thinking
That you're funny.

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Body hair protects
When
It scares away predators
Called men.

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The hardest time
To get through
Is when your sleep and muse
Evade you.