Sunday Afternoon in his Arms

Love; it has a funny way of creeping up on you.
It breathes a whisper on your skin; it pressing its lips on your shoulder; it burns the memory of its presence in your mind; its life in your heart.
Love; it's pretty funny.
It makes you laugh for nothing; it makes you smile at the wind; it makes you happy.
Love: when it leaves you are sad it has left; but happy to have known it. Love; what a wonderful person.

A kiss

I tasted of a man’s lips; to say it was sweet would be deceit.

They left an imprint of which there’s no fading; as yet it seems.

Tingles; thrills; all these I did feel in memory.

In sleep; dazed in sitting; his lips have played their jig.

I cannot forget it; no matter how hard I try and hard have I.

I am in need that’s dire to feel his lips on mine for a little longer than a while.

I have tasted of a man’s lips and I dare of their taste, have I need.

I have to resist for all aside he isn’t free.

A taken man has ensnared me.

Wondorous thoughts

I write novels to live and as of now I'm writing one that is closest to my issues as it may ever get...for now anyway. Basically; its a story about a kid who finds out she's a princess thanks to a philandering colonial king who holds his country hostage in his death in exchange for his second family being given a chance at the throne. Unfortunately; as usual; I am having doubts about the romance aspect of the book. Parts of me are going and gunning for different directions. One part wants to turn the character into a conniving scheming bitch; while another wants her to be untouched sexually but still loved (I don't get how that would be possible or why); another wants her to be heartbroken (of which I am inclined) and yet another wants her to have them both (as usual there're the goody two shoes and villainous options) and yet another wants her to have one (the basically goody two shoes). It's a hassle that's got me wondering; does the Almighty go through this with our lives. Does s/he sit and ponder on which direction I should take; you should take? Certain PM's should take? If S/he does; I pity her/him for it's certainly a hard thing to think of leave alone live out.

Decisions made

So; I mentioned I went for a trip up country; as above the equator. Yeah; I went visitng West side and my friend who lives there. I had a wonderful time and did some revelations and soul searching. Decided to ease on the fear of the human connection aka romance in my life. That train of thought may have been solidified by my kiss but it's something that's been bugging me long time. The proses and novels that I write are definitely something to go by. I guess I am recognising this inconspicuous year as a year of doing something with what should be my heart. It's just a void really; but I empathise (Ironic yes) enough to know what I'm supposed to feel. Okay maybe empathise is not the right word; read covers it better. I'll look for attraction because way too much of rushing into what people want to be love is happening around me. I want to enjoy the attraction; if for nothing else than the false sense of tangible, long term probability it gives people in the form of relationships. Do I need luck? I think a starting point is better suited.

O is not for obsessed

It's been....okay so counting the days; hours and minutes since that first kiss is a little extreme. It's just that I'm psycho (read eccentric) and I like (love) to detail (dwell) on things that affect me (like the kiss) and wonder if it'll happen again (like this up coming week) and if the guy (not mine :P) is thinking about it too; cause I sure do believe I was awesome(yeah; I admire myself). It's not an everyday thing and the obsessing (looping it over and over again) is freaking me out. I guess I don't want to lose the memory...but if it's considered to never have happened; what's the loss in forgetting it?

Aftermath

Why the hell does no one say the damn memories are gonna be triggered by anything and everything? As in a cup on the lips; eating with a spoon; applying balm on my lips triggers the damn memories of a kiss and come on; is it really fair for the world to not warn the repurcussions of kissing? I mean sure; the books and blogs say the feeling lasts and it's all kicking heels in the air and bursting hearts but they don't say careful now, you might have sensory memory what with your lips sensitive to any pressure and eliciting memories of a kiss whenever touched especially first kisses and more especially if you had never been kissed before. Well, listen up...eh read up never-been-kissed and plan on it; best be ready for memory flashes in the middle of really awkward settings like talking with your Dad and smiling like an idiot if it was good and groaning out loud if it was bad. Luckily some of us are just grinning like fools. Damn.

First Kiss

My first kiss went a little like this; I think I attacked the poor fellow. I’m not too sure though if I really did. See, I kissed a boy and I liked it. Well, really liked it and it’s been playing on a loop in my head since then. I swear, the memories keep changing every hour I’m thinking about it; which is every hour. Man is it a rollercoaster or what? Why don't romance books say the tingles don't die; they just expound? Why does no one say there's every chance of falling in love in akiss? Those things need to have warning labels! Anyway; I think I did pretty good on it by the way. Very good. Especially for the first time. Yeah; hence my first kiss. Giddy is not even in the vocabulary today. It’s….indescribable. Seriously. I wanna say it was sparks while we kissed; but it wasn’t. It was more like noting everything between our lips and how much time it would be before I fell for him. So I stopped it but then he asked for another and I was not exactly coherent; I just stuffed my face into his shoulder cause I wanted to explode with...I guess tension? I don't know; it was all very overwhelming. But we kissed again and it was rushed (what? I had to go home). Keeping it a secret is a hard thing; well, yeah a secret because what he doesn't know I spilled doesn't affect him; *grins*. Sang that night some cheesy songs like I'm walking on sunshine and teenage dream and my first kiss; seriously and I'm not even ashamed to be so cheesy. I wonder how long this feeling will last.

Daresome

I am daring myself; yes I tend to do that because it's fun and I like to dream; so anyhue; I am daring myself. To track down a fine fellow and I do not lie; he is a cutie; and kiss him. Yep; gonna break that innocence. My lips will see more than just...well...my arm or wrist or thigh or knee (that's actually quite comforting) in the name of lip on lip action. Why? i don't have one answer. sometime during my trip up country (like crossing the equator) I decided I needed drama in my life of the positive kind. Being depressed is interesting and all but only for so long. If you don't try to commit suicide and cause some of us are blessed; try to drink the table under everybody; then it get's bland at some points. So; I will hit the town and grab him by his...too bad he doesn't do shirts; could have said lapels and smack one on his fine lips; and he has real estate on that front. His girlfriend is lucky. Oh did I forget to mention he may be tied up? I say may because I don't know his relationship status; I just need him not to track my ass down for a relationship if it's a hot kiss. Or he really; really likes me. Wishing me luck

I always wonder why famous people would put a gun to their head; an arrow to their hurt; probably hurl themselves off a cliff in the old millenia. I always wondered why someone with anything at their disposal would take their own life. Then I grew up and understood.

The loneliness of heart; the loneliness from their hearts hurts. Others; millions, hundreds; one may love you worth the millions but the loneliness of the heart makes it all irrelevant. The winter within the chest forms icy walls thicker than underground vaults; stronger than titanium. Impenetrable.

The winter heart beats to keep one alive not for one to live but to simply breath. The cold is painful; it cuts through and cuts off the breath. The desire to die grows stronger; to end the impenitent infliction of pain that seems to come naturally; involuntarily from you to the ones who want to and are loving you.

So the gun to head, think of all you can be in the next life. Pull the trigger and sigh the last of that you’ll ever draw inside. The pain is explosive; lasts but a moment; taken over by shock; by relief. The winter heart thaws with the flowing blood. Set free, it soars and flies. Free at last to be without sadness for not loving back; for not caring; for feeling lonely.

songs touching crystal cold hearts

The words of the song float through the speakers; the air and my mind fills with you. Images of us as the lovers in the song come to fore. We’re in meadows of spring flowers and butterflies. We dance, we laugh, we play. We love. It’s impossible, I know, as I look at you. We were could never be.

The words of the song float through the speaker. It’s a sad song and moves to the core of me. My mind fills with images of we. Your heart is breaking; I’m saying goodbye. I had to leave because it wasn’t healthy. We broke up; we made up; we were never at ease. It’s possible to hurt you, I know as I look at you. We can never be.

The words of the song float through the speaker. It’s another love song. They say they were sorry; they want to return. They say they’ll love you right. I want to believe them. I want it to be true. That you can be hurt and still love the one who hurt you. It’s not probable but it’s not fair. I turn from you. The game must stop. We will never be.

words of broken vessels

We lie together, as not long afore. His silence isn’t reassuring, it’s killing me softly. He said the words before unveiling me he said he loves me. Was it a lie? He won’t look at me; I don’t search his eyes. I can sense it was a mistake to him; he regrets it with his life. I knew I shouldn’t have given in; but I had felt him pull away; slide; and an abyss seemed to be creeping in; filling our romance that once held life.

I move to touch him; there he lies; still. I feel his heart beating; watch his chest fall and rise. Is it beating for me? I know the answer will make me cry. I pull away, I pull in. He waits a while. I feign sleep and finally he moves; I can feel his eyes.

They search my face; I beg the tears not to fall. I don’t feel his love. He rolls to his other side, I open my eyes to see him take his phone. Must have felt me wake; says he’s going to the bathroom. I don’t need to ask for what the phone is. I see him dial one. Her number. He hadn’t erased it and I had always known why.

I turn on my side; I hug myself tight. Had I not been enough? Had I been enough? Enough for him to realise he’d made a mistake. He wanted her to return. He was the one to leave her. Searching for something different. Searching for me. Would she take him back? She’d be a fool not to. He’d always be the one she’d want. The tears burn. Dawn breaks; and yet, he doesn’t return.

I’m in the kitchen; doing things men like from their women. House is clean, food is ready. I wait; I listen. He comes in and gives me a kiss; whispers he is sorry. He had wanted a love like mine; but like my heart, he’ll leave it behind.