Dear Little Black Book, Clark Kent is an idiot. He smiles as if there's no
2 morrow to cry for, laughs and has the nerve to ask me to wear nicer
colors. If Clark had a brain he'd be dangerous.
I wiped my emotion slate clear then tossed it in the garbage hoping I'd never have to look at it again. Hoping that eventually every little thing that I felt would just discentegrate into thin air. Clark was one matter on his own, but then, I was still living in a house with Chloe, and as much as I wanted my squash every pang, it was hard when I passed her every morning wearing nothing but a towel.
Now, Chloe is Chloe, and no matter how you look at her, she doesn't change. She grows into her spirit and bottles up the past, which is good, for me at least. She's probably the only person in the whole fucking world who understands.
I went into her room one night when she was sat at her desk, clicking away on her computer.
"Chloe?" I asked.
She looked at me. "Ah!" she exclaimed, 'goth free for once!"
I didn't smile. I cut right to the chase. "I need you." I said.
"Me?" she asked. "what for?"
I wasted no words. I knealed to her level, took her face in my hand and kissed her deeply and passionately, penetrating her with my tongue, slowly and then softly. When I leaned away from her she was in a complete state of shock.
"that.'" I said.
She looked at me hard, with a confused look on her face. "why?"
"Because you're you and not afraid of it." I leaned into her face again and whispered into her ear, "did you like it?"
She brought my face around with her hands and kissed me almost as deeply as I had kissed her. As she drew her mouth away, our breathing was heavy, and she mumbled, 'uh-huh' before kissing me again.
I wiped my emotion slate clear then tossed it in the garbage hoping I'd never have to look at it again. Hoping that eventually every little thing that I felt would just discentegrate into thin air. Clark was one matter on his own, but then, I was still living in a house with Chloe, and as much as I wanted my squash every pang, it was hard when I passed her every morning wearing nothing but a towel.
Now, Chloe is Chloe, and no matter how you look at her, she doesn't change. She grows into her spirit and bottles up the past, which is good, for me at least. She's probably the only person in the whole fucking world who understands.
I went into her room one night when she was sat at her desk, clicking away on her computer.
"Chloe?" I asked.
She looked at me. "Ah!" she exclaimed, 'goth free for once!"
I didn't smile. I cut right to the chase. "I need you." I said.
"Me?" she asked. "what for?"
I wasted no words. I knealed to her level, took her face in my hand and kissed her deeply and passionately, penetrating her with my tongue, slowly and then softly. When I leaned away from her she was in a complete state of shock.
"that.'" I said.
She looked at me hard, with a confused look on her face. "why?"
"Because you're you and not afraid of it." I leaned into her face again and whispered into her ear, "did you like it?"
She brought my face around with her hands and kissed me almost as deeply as I had kissed her. As she drew her mouth away, our breathing was heavy, and she mumbled, 'uh-huh' before kissing me again.