Swallow that pity slobbered lustful look in this heart, murder its defenseless words and eat out its innards and gouging on its spirit. Let me fall to the black abyss of endlessness, forgetting our first daily passions kiss. It's rude, rough, uncertain, and lustful like a box of TNT jammed packed together like a piñata filled with sweet treasons of affection. Forget our unadulterated thoughts and just work on this touch.
And then it clicks; this isn't for me this is for someone else. Your eyes, your mind, your heart, it's betraying all the trust I built for us. Though it was fake trust, and now, this heavy heart sinks like the worthless piece of crap it is. Black and broken, stabbed and wrenched. It's tired of these tight lips, these gentle thrusts of passion each time your tongue does the tango with my own. I can taste the ecstasy of need and staleness of love long forgotten.
STOP. I wish you'd stop. I need this to stop, stop touching, stop hurting, stop fucking me up even worse than it's already begun. Your hands are slipping lower, avalanches coming further down my mountainsides of muscles. Bodies rippling of anticipation test the water and slip down further into our own lake of self-deprivation.
You judge me like you judge anyone else. I'm just a person walking down the street, like you would look at me, would you look at me the same? Or is it just because we're fuck buddies that it's okay to say we don't judge? Forget it. I'm done screwing your mind.
I'll rip this 24 karat gold ring from my mind, screw the heart it's already dead. Pick up my fractured thoughts from your place tonight and shove them in a box. Take them home and stitch them together. Careful not to break their fragile passions. Damn it's hard.
I'm in love with your mind. Every time we speak. Every time we connect. I feel your warm cascades of masculine woo entering and tearing, forming and conforming. It's your fault, which I've come so attached, I ran and ran but the shackles pull me back to where I belong. Your slave.
They say whatever they want, but I know it's true. You're still holding a power over me none of them could grasp. It's ruining me. Ruining what little sanity that dare peeks it head out of the hole only for you to swing your mallet of anticipation at.
And I'll end it here. Kiss you one last time, savour the sweet aromas of mind fucking and leave. The bell's already rung. Do the things you need to do, get ready and walk away. My eyes searching and wanting, wishing and kissing and I swear this is everything I wish it were. But it's not. I know it's not, I'll scream to the top of my lungs and everything will be silenced by a self-hushed kiss. Hush me, love me, touch me, and just don't leave me. NO, I have to be strong, I have to move on.
But when we finally do touch, even if it is just a brush. I can feel you enter me, exit me, enter me, exit me, this is what fucking must feel like. And then you release everything into me; I wish I could voice myself out to you. But you're already hushing me, with quiet solemn kisses.