deepundergroundpoetry.com

Actions, speak louder than words...

If you have no intention with me, then please, sit the fuck down because youíre blocking the traffic thatís queued up behind you !

I donít want words on a screen. I want you in my bed, and in my head after you have to go home. I want your soft whispers of reassurance after weíve spent hours pleasuring one another, perhaps for days on end as we move beyond the clandestine.

Sighs.

If you wanted me, it wasnít ever evident when reflecting upon the lack of opportunity to say ďhello... how are you ?Ē or ďhello... do you remember me ?Ē

or

Hello...

do you remember those nights I crowned you King, above and beyond all the others who were chasing my arse, time & time again.

or

do you remember when we fucked, and trashed one anotherís hearts, just like I trashed those streets in your sleepy little hometown ?

I wonder... do you remember the scent of my perfume in your bed, post the nights you made me cum all over you ?

or

do you remember the times I chased you, wanting more of you, only for you to give me the cold shoulder, or make me watch you go home with one of my friends ?

Well. I do... and never once have you tried to reach me even though I virtually came and sat right next to you whilst I kissed your heart & soul and stroked your pretty little ego as my heart started to ache, when all I wanted was to feel you deep inside me again.

I donít need a fucking heart ache when I want and need you to fuck me like it means something more than a one night stand, this time.

You know, itís easy just to say hello, and break the ice, but itís apparent you enjoy stringing me along like a lost little kitten chasing fairy lights, and then, throwing a tantrum when I decide to check the fuck out of this madness, to go wondering amongst nature to heal myself as you refuse to proffer your flesh and bone for me to do that with you.

Perhaps, youíre just as afraid as I because deep down, I think we both fear the damage thatíll be done the morning after we spend the night fucking one another until weíre drunk off of one another, all over again.

So. Donít cry me a fucking river because you canít will the man in you to chase the woman in me.

Yíknow, the woman you supposedly love because youíre afraid Iíll fucking trash your heart like you continue to do to mine at the end of each night, and thereís still no word from you.

Fuck all that BS because you donít know what you want, and Iím done playing charades with you, hoping and praying that youíll recognise that thereís nothing you can possibly give me to soothe the inner chaos that unfolds internally, other than your time & presence, in person.

Whatís stopping you ? A wife ? GF ? Children ?

Sighs.

How am I suppose to know ? I donít.

And, Iím not going to establish contact with you as I donít interfere in other peoples relationships, and the reality forthcoming, is that those things could be present in your life, but arenít visible from looking through windows via technology.
shadow_starzzz
Written by shadow_starzzz
Published
Author's Note
Do... or donít; just stop fucking with my mind because my cunt is more receptive to being fucked with, than my mind !
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 7 reading list entries 0
comments 4 reads 118
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
POETRY
Today 7:32am by Miss_Sub
COMPETITIONS
Today 6:57am by PlaydateWithFire
COMPETITIONS
Today 4:14am by PoetsRevenge
COMPETITIONS
Today 4:07am by PoetsRevenge
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:56am by kermodeist
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:26am by cold_fusion