6 posts tagged “confessions”

i'm wandering this now foreign road to your heart, a road i used to know better...no, wholly. trying to remember, trying to recall my way there. out of sheer curiosity, i guess...or some sick fascination i might have with train wrecks. either way, you've changed so many things around...shit's intimidating. each step i take, it feels as if you're gonna come out of nowhere like some mad vengeful entity and punish me for even having the nerve to proceed. these dark beastly trees along the road are so threatening...and these skies i once marveled over with delight are no longer blue, no longer soulful. i look at them now and they're off black, storm-ridden, pained...and this realization immediately saddens me more than you know because i know it's a reflection of how you feel about me, and i can't get my emotions back together fast enough before you rush to scrutinize my flaw in agility. your bitterness is alive and real, and i get it; i know i could've tried to rectify this rift ages ago...but believe me when i say i'm sorry, mainly for turning you into someone afraid to admit you still have a heart, forbidding access to it even...because you don't want anyone else discovering you have more love to give, for fear of them doing damage too. you let me in just long enough to see the damage i've done, just long enough for me to feel some kinda guilt. you tell me i caused pain, drove it deep into you like a stake...coldly, precisely. to be real, i thought you were trying to kill me. i wanted to get you first. but i'm aware i killed other things in the process...beauty, TRUST, symmetry - all victims of my misguided selfishness. i destroyed these things, and i can't rebuild. there is no resurrecting the dead that is us, and that's the way it's supposed to be. certain kinds of hurt in this world are meant to be left alone, and you accept that and move on..

in all my years of writing online, i realized i never once wrote about my first love who was tragically killed in the late 90s. i mentioned him very briefly in an entry i wrote on my site last year called "fighting nemesis," which i'll post later on this week, but besides that - nothing. for whatever reason, i feel like it's time i share something now. this is yet another layer of self partially unveiled.
..........................................
"out amongst the walking wounded, every face on every bus
is you and me and him and her and nothing can replace the us i knew
nothing can replace the us i knew"
-everything but the girl

daydreams tease, they tease hard and fuck my mind up.
nice promises of sun kisses and yellow bliss, slivers of you. how can i not close my eyes and pucker my lips, await the seduction. i wait so long and so goddamn hard that i almost miscarry this hope inside me, so long that it feels like the butterflies in my belly are gonna get tired of flying for nothing and die. reality always has this sick way of killing shit...and i feel like i gotta have this fortress built around my fantasies for the battle.
perhaps a certain freedom is what i need; that's what some conscious boho told me in conversation. well, bitch...use your marvelous higher power to show me those eagles constellated in the sky. i just need a little more inspiration to let go - that's the bullshit she sang to me, but bay...i know your daydreams well. they tease and fuck my mind up, and this is one of those tragically romantic truths.
i can feel the ashes in my mouth, for the sweetest kisses you had for me were never given. all these thoughts and schizo-esque sensations are enough to make me go postal. like, i wanna hijack time and go back a decade, pull a big gun on the fate gods and tell them to rewrite your fucking story, or else. i just know you weren't meant to leave me that soon. sometimes i wanna scream your name, force you here with the impossible magic a lonely heart determinedly creates. i grab my memento box and madly sift through your photographs and poems til my heart builds a memory for my mind's autoerotic pleasure...and the orgasm's good, but daydreams tease and fuck everything up 'cause they don't last. missing you is some kinda beautiful hell.
every once in a while, i see your older brother...and when we hug, i swear i feel your soul permeating and warming my skin like a spirit trying to reconnect with true human love...and my mind can't help itself; to imagine is to remember all the things we experienced and the things we didn't get to, to imagine is to keep you alive. you are and will always be soulmate numero uno. i don't think i'll ever stop dreaming of you. even when i'm half-assedly or totally giving my love to other people, i'll always remember you. even when the odds don't want me to...somehow i will.

when you told me you were going to go see her that night, i wanted to choke you. i hate that she's so near you and i'm so far. i thought about what you two would do together. watch a little tube...kiss...finger-fuck? would your dainty little hand smell like honeysuckle afterward? if so...would that be enough to make you stay overnight and explore all her orifices until her body became synonymous with the word climax? it was my secret hope that she smelled like sewage, and that you'd run up out of there to call me and clown her before it got that far. (the call never came, thus laughter never relieved me.) i thought about you two whispering smutty words in each other's ear, your soft sweet mound grinding up against her wack ass pussy. she doesn't deserve to be around you, let alone taste/feel your flesh. she's just using you because her marriage is disheveled and your pretty face brings calm to her life...to everyone's life; that's half the issue right there. but i know you're using her too, to fill an emotive void. babe, i'm jealous...though i attempt not to be. it's like i'm oversensitive when it comes to you. i'm sorry i can't be there all the time to feed you everything you need. sincerely, this is not a ploy to make you feel guilty...because i understand your need to get off, but i just had to get this off and release.

i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
i don't wanna be a selfish lover.
(repeat)

i don't wanna be a selfish whatever the hell i am to you.

in this nocturnal hour, i am overcome with emotion, and it is fueled by an indignant passion...one that turns sadness to vengefulness and vengefulness to beastliness, and love, this is why i need my space. i don't want to hurt you like you've hurt me...but while i'm feeling all of this - almost simultaneously - i am comforted by a merciful inkling of love and empathy from another source, subtly, very slowly mitigating the chaos within. it's nice to know someone else cares, yo. i need the balance like the sky needs the moon and the sun. but really, i hope my dreams elude all this melancholy tonight.

i'm fascinated by heartbutchers, cold apathetic people who just don't give a fuck. when i feel myself loving too much and too hard, i wanna go find the emotionless black pit they comfortably live in, wanna trip over broken rainbows and land in that deep dark hole with them...and i vividly envision myself falling with a thud, knocked unconscious for a while, at least until whoever i'm loving too much and too hard at the time forgets my name, and i wake up with amnesia, forgetting theirs...and their eyes and their scent and their pretty tattoos and bruises, so when we pass each other in the streets, our faces are just unimportant blurs. i'm fascinated by heartbutchers because they all seem to have the ingenious magic eraser. sometimes i really want that shit...the convenience of oblivion, for it to swallow me when i'm hopelessly desperate for love's reciprocity because i hate being the only one who feels. fuck my heart and its pseudo-gypsy big love blood.