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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Romance/Love · #2144982
Mild sexual themes.
It is here, finally, that I long for what I so hated;
Being alone.
Free from the sorrow longing you have cursed me with.
Writhing hips beneath yours, submitting myself again.
In a state of worship.
Staring tenderly, voices having retreated.
Hands grazing at each other, warm and humane.
Kisses bleed into my skin and I levitate to a state of relief.
I need you, he confessed onto deaf ears and dead eyes, and I long to believe you.
Attention seeking, we play this game with the dice.
Striking the walls that separate us with each roll of our hips.
I miss you, my body rang out in rage.
Why can't it always be like this?
Memories not forgetten, but put aside.
Numbness revoked by feelings, crowding animalistic upon me like a pride of lions.
You're the only one, he declares, as though it was me that had forgot.
He's so selfish; I told, to rescue myself.
Almost like a spiritual experience, except there is no higher power, just us.
No god or religeon, no public opinion, no judgement and no hell.
Only heaven.
Not to be given, however to be earned.
Anger clouds judgement, I allow myself weak thoughts.
Suddenly I am nothing, just burning to question him again.
Nothing to finish the explanations.
A starry sky of responses to but only one word; why.
Tell me why,
If I am truly the only one you love, however untruly.
Oozing simplicity and distance, you offer the same confession to the crime you didn't commit.
I'm sinking into a steep climbing for you,
Head leaning back and staring into the pale abyss of the ceiling, drifting away blankly into space and for one moment,
You are finally mine.
At my mercy, tables turned over and the game changed to suit my victory over you.
Love and glory drip from my eyes, I cry out for the man who loves me the way I love him.
I awaken steadily, slowly. Fading back into reality, I feel the loss again.
The high crashes and my addiction is fixed.
You are gone from me and one again, I am alone.
Longing for you even though you're right next to me.
On my bedside table, books of stories and sonnets await my gaze.
At last, we can crash together.
Come back to me darling, for I know not what I can do now.
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