Haven’t done this shit n awhile. But figured instead of pouring my feelings into water that drips from my soul through the corner of my eyes i’d put it on my own form of a pen and pad. Laying here can’t sleep for images of you running through my dreams. Don’t want to see your face anymore. Don’t want to be reminded of what I no longer see. Came into my world like a present dropped off from the man above specially wrapped for me. It was too perfect. Right when I was ready to throw in the towel and give up you came and put ya lips to my ear and said “I want you”. At the time even though I was flattered my past made me chuck up as game. But fate has a funny way of sneaking in and turning shit upside down. So I wanted to know who this beautiful fagboi with the mesmerizing swag was and I wanted to know what she was high on that night that she would want this beautiful disaster.
Took a few days to figure out the answers to the questions that
plagued my brain. From the first time I stepped into your world my head was swimming and my heart was jumping like a new puppy excited to see its new master. You were my new thrill and I was definitely addicted. Your words to me fed my soul, your kisses watered my secret cave, your touch electrified my skin, and your presence gave this disaster hope. Even though I wanted those feelings to last forever, the broken voice inside knew a storm was coming, but I prayed I had a stronger levy and seaboard than both Galveston and N.O. the hurricane showed up almost exactly 1 week after you changed me. It came fast, hard, and she was taking prisoners. She hit you first, hitting you right in your heart. The one place she knew couldn’t withstand the force of her. Then she came and knocked my ass right off my feet. Luckily for me I was ready and recovered and was ready to go full force against this storm in order to protect you. Little did I know that this storm had knocked you down before and those wounds were still fresh. I tried to surround you with my own shelter but I was too late, your old wounds were open and bleeding and she was already inside you infecting you. There was nothing for me to do except stay at ya bedside and hope you would heal like you were a superhero and then we could stand together and be prepared for the next storm because I’m a movement by myself but I’m force when we are together
(thanx Fabo). Instead your wounds healed but pieces of the storm still live in them and until you get them outta your system you said you couldn’t be with me. So here I stand-alone, bruised, drained, sore, fatigued, and angry. Never angry at you but angry at fate for coming in and turning my house up side down and bouncing like a bad house guest. I try and check on u as often you will allow, trying to see if images of me still live behind your beautiful eyes, trying to see if the mental videos of our nights together still play over and over in your heart, but mostly trying to make sure that this fucking storm has
not damaged my beautiful fagboi. Trying to make sure that this storm didn’t take everything that I had begun to cherish about you away.
Everybody always says if you love/care about someone let them go, and if they come back then that’s how you know that it’s meant to be. Well I got a question for all those fucking love experts…what the hell do you do if they don’t? It’s easy to pretend that you love someone, when you really don’t, but it is not easy to pretend that you don’t love someone when you do. This beautiful disaster misses a beautiful fagboi every fucking day.
xsimplicit33x ( 21 OCT 09)
resjaun Said:
on December 4, 2009 at 1:19 am
I promise everything u write is my angelic insanity