mynewplace: (Judy needs GIN)

Sometimes when you

Confide in me

Hold me tight

Kiss me just because I'm sweet

Sometimes when you

Seek me out

Take my advice

Compliment my cooking

Sometimes when you

Slide your leg between mine

Wrap yourself around me

Or cover my cold arms

I start to feel loved

And my heart gets confused.

World Weary

Nov. 8th, 2006 04:28 pm
mynewplace: (JimLuv)

How many times

Will I weary

Of this game?

How many times

Will I groan inward

As futility

Fills my soul?

Nothing I say

Nothing I do

Sparks the love light

In your eyes.

When will I stop

Throwing my sweetness

To the dogs

That consume your spirit?

I beg you

Take this hope from me

I'm tired to death

Of being unloved.

Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not really depressed, just purging. Truth is, if his desire to discuss and debate an issue as dear to his heart as politics is any indication, I'm worming my way in even as I write this.

mynewplace: (cant feel anything)
Are you busy?
No.
Are you sure?
Why can't you take me at my word?
Because you say you love me, and I find that difficult to believe.
So do I.
Then why do you say it?
Because it beats itself out of me. 

I don't know where it's coming from
or how long it's going to last. 
This love isn't like me.
I'm selfish and needy,
not prone to giving love
to people who 
will not love me back. 

I don't want to love you. 
It's too hard
and too painful. 
But I do, 
despite the pain and difficulty
and that's what makes me think
this love is not mine 
to give
or take away.

It's been put inside me by God, 
and He has His reasons
for wanting you to be loved.

I can argue with God
and fight the love
try to kill it 
with hateful reminders
of your faithless nature
and your harsh words;

I can cry
and hide from my family
and snap at random people
or those closest to me - 
those who love me.

But I can't seem to 
stay away from you
and I can't seem to
kill this love. 

I guess I need you to kill it
or kill me
to make it go away.
Sometimes I think 
you are trying to kill it
and then I grow a bit 
protective of it.
But I wish you could 
or would.

My Drug

Oct. 3rd, 2006 11:24 am
mynewplace: (cant feel anything)
A sweet sip of bourbon
From his glass
As warm arms enfold me
Snug on his lap
His chocolate voice soothes me
Gentle lips taste my neck
My skin tingles at every brush of his beard
Until my mind goes blissfully blank into his kiss
This is my drug of choice
And I need a fix
Daddy


Somehow, I said it better with "I need lips on my ear and liquor in my belly and warm arms wrapped around me. Goddammit."
mynewplace: (cant feel anything)
There's a special ring
When he calls
And I rush to listen 
Warm baritone
floods my ear
He's funny
Sarcastic and witty
The occasional pain in his words
catches the light
like the scales of a brook trout
shimmying beneath the surface
He tries to change the subject
but he can't let it go
And for some perverse reason
Neither can I
So I tug at the barbed words 
I want to wriggle them out
Instead he takes his pain
in another direction
He's afraid that I'll hurt him
Better that he hurt himself
That way he's still in control
I hear him giving up
Despite that glimmer of hope
that he throws me
"Sometimes I think
I'm just a little bit better than that
you know?"
I think so too
His pain fills my chest
With softened lead
I can feel it pressing against my lungs
As I wrap my own arms around me
And hold my phone against my cheek.


I am sustained by the hope
that allowing him to talk 
might work things out
inside his head
and help him get on with his life
but sometimes I'm afraid
that he'll talk it all out
and choose to die anyway.
mynewplace: (saphface)

Whatcha doin' here baby?
Nuthin' left here to see
I don' have much to say
Since my muse ran away
I don' write about you anymore 

Whatcha lookin' for baby?
I had all yer answers
Just like I have my own.
Trouble is, I don' pay no mind to my own words
I just hand out candy advice
To the women cryin' around me
"What's wrong with me? Why don' he want me?"

What can I tell 'em baby?
All I have is the truth 
He's a loser 
You're too good
And a little bit of hope 
You'll find somebody
That hope - it's the same color as truth
And it sounds just as sweet
But it's saccharin
So the bitterness lingers.

Cause the truth is changin'
There ain't a man
For every woman no more
There's somethin' in the water
Makin' men cling
To their mommy's skirts

No sense comin' here baby.
I ain't got nuthin' for ya
Just that same ol' love
That let you cling to my curves
When you were spinnin' outta control.

Nuthin' you want, baby.
So run along home
Be a good boy
And mind yer mommy

mynewplace: (brightside?)

Do we really know what another deserves?

Can we truly judge?


She could be working out

The sins of a past life

Perhaps she was a polygamist

Maybe she broke so many hearts

That seven men wept

a jilted mate's tears

Over her grave

Perhaps the winsome soul

shining from her eyes

made a man forget his very name


He may have been
a rounder

Who never cared one whit

About the souls he stole away

With a lingering glance

Or a secret kiss.


But maybe fate is crueler still

Perhaps karma has given her

Those same shining eyes

Destined this time

To never meet their mate


Perhaps the gods saw fit

To grace him with that same

Soul-searing kiss

That broke a thousand hearts

Only to let a careless harlot

Crush his soul


Perhaps this round of the wheel

His only lesson will be

Don't let laziness

Steal your happiness away

Don't let your indecision

Force your true love

Out the door.


Maybe the only thing

She needs to learn in this life

Is mind your greedy manners

take what is graciously offered to you

and leave the rest for someone else.

mynewplace: (someone elses arms)

The first kiss so relaxed him that I could feel the tension ease out of the muscles in his chest and stomach. He spilled some of his darkest secrets, and gave me something that just a few weeks ago he had sworn was reserved only for Tisha. I thought at the time that would be the most satisfying thing I could ever experience. But I had no concept what lay in store for me.

The bed we never touch, the bed he never sleeps in, the bed that has looked the same for three weeks or more, was opened, and I was welcomed inside it. It took him some serious work to convince me that he wanted, rather needed, me to linger there. Once I was convinced, he took me to some places he'd never taken me before, then let me hold him, and fell asleep in my arms. I got home at 7:15 this morning.

I fear I am undone, for I have become the comfort creature I have always longed to be. And now I'm going to bed.

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