Saturday, January 10, 2009

Some Stories.

Written on:Sunday, December 07, 2008

"Kiss me"

I like your aged hands
dark hair and
the way your rough jeans feel against my satin thighs
bare and naive
to what will soon come
feed my starving tongue
you make the winter so very warm
in the backseat of your car,
so very warm

I like your strong hold
authority and
the way you pull me toward you, in the summer,
by my arm
in only my swimming shorts,
if and when i'd rather swim deeper
you whisper
to swim upon you,instead
too scared to miss out
too scared to shake my head

sometimes I'm confused
sometimes I dont really know

why the way your rough jeans feel against my satin thighs

but its all worth it,in the end
once I know of what will come
and as you feed my starving tongue

kiss me



I dont mind if you follow me home
because most of the time,I feel so numb
I dont mind if you violently pull my unwilling hand
as you shove me into your rugged bed
and muffle my lazy cries with your palm
because most of the time,I feel so numb.

but if you follow me home on one of those good days,
you better be careful that I dont ask you If I can stay
you better take caution of that happy hour
its the moment that feeling rushes in when
you should pray you dont run into me,then

and you better beware of that elated hour,
because I might start decorating your home
and dont mind if I move the tattered furniture
or dust the bookshelf and the television's bunny ears

dont yell if I jump up and down on your bed,nonstop
heavy and hard
while youre trying to read one of your favorite novels
and you keep looking up at me,in your four eyes- couture
I'll scream out "you look old!"
and dont nod your bothered head in frustration,
when you find out I ate all your icecream.
"it was either that or pickles!"
because stranger,you never know whos numb inside,or feels alone
Better beware,if you follow me home.


"The little boy"

he never looks me straight in the eyes
and If I dare turn to him,his hazel sways away
stares so blank,behind my glasses, a curious blink
Awkward silence, I'm just here for your little boy.
You pay me well, I say
but what If I want more?

quench the drought inside of me,
Cant you see it?
No,i feel so strange.What am I saying?
I barely know you,
You barely know me
sometimes your conversation is annoying
I dont think youre that special
maybe its just because of the nothingness inside of me

when you feel so numb and dead (as I do),
everything else seems so amazing,and magnified ten more times alive,


can you see me, externally?

You probably think i'm nerdy
or that I bare only a year more than your 6 year old sons maturity
you just dont know me
and I'm sorry for thinking youre boring.
I dont know you either.
Youre probably not always boring..

I dont know why I'm thinking..
I shouldnt be thinking..
I'm only here to play with him,
keep an eye on him,
feed him,
giggle with him
as we roll around on the floor together,
and he shows me his toy trucks

so why in the world..
do I care about the way you stare down at me,
once coming in through the front door,
suitcase and all.

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