deepundergroundpoetry.com

Actions, speak louder than words...

If you have no intention with me, then please, sit the fuck down because you’re blocking the traffic that’s queued up behind you !

I don’t 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 we’ve spent hours pleasuring one another, perhaps for days on end as we move beyond the clandestine.

Sighs.

If you wanted me, it wasn’t ever evident when reflecting upon the lack of opportunity to say “hello... how are you ?” or “hello... do you remember me ?”

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 another’s 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 don’t 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, it’s easy just to say hello, and break the ice, but it’s 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, you’re just as afraid as I because deep down, I think we both fear the damage that’ll be done the morning after we spend the night fucking one another until we’re drunk off of one another, all over again.

So. Don’t cry me a fucking river because you can’t will the man in you to chase the woman in me.

Y’know, the woman you supposedly love because you’re afraid I’ll fucking trash your heart like you continue to do to mine at the end of each night, and there’s still no word from you.

Fuck all that BS because you don’t know what you want, and I’m done playing charades with you, hoping and praying that you’ll recognise that there’s nothing you can possibly give me to soothe the inner chaos that unfolds internally, other than your time & presence, in person.

What’s stopping you ? A wife ? GF ? Children ?

Sighs.

How am I suppose to know ? I don’t.

And, I’m not going to establish contact with you as I don’t interfere in other peoples relationships, and the reality forthcoming, is that those things could be present in your life, but aren’t visible from looking through windows via technology.
Written by shadow_starzzz
Published
Author's Note
Do... or don’t; 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.
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