overkil

Every second I go without you I want you more, your thought in my head is a constant tease. I breathe you in and desire you more and more, that scent could wake me from the deepest sleep. I want to have you run against my tounge, a sensation known to few as orgasmic. Your bitter sweet taste is what I crave, I need your lip against my own. when I lean my head back slightly and take you in, then and only then am I whole. I'll repeat this until I am through, but never for long... I always want another cup.

Scattered Joy It never made sense to me why people would live their lives, I guess I'm just a victim of falling in line. Look out the window. What do you see? People carrying on with their chores day in and day out. Wake up, eat, go to work... on the weekends they'll mow the lawn or dust the house. Maybe if someone works hard enough they'll find a bit of peace. A nice vacation, or a simple rest in the backyard. People take pictures and look back and think "That was really nice, I wish every day could be like that." Why can't it? Why does life have to follow this design? Time goes on and so do our lives, but unlike time our lives will end and

My intentions are to set the past to rest. A noble and misplaced venture. I'll take my memories off the wall and place them in a box. Tape it up and think job well done. If people can't deal with something they simply don't. All the dried flowers from one occasion or another will be thrown out if I have the heart. What will probably stop me though is having too much of it. A heavy heart doesn't usually get around to throwing out sentimental trophies. They save them to look back on later when they know it'll only hurt. Cards from holidays and notes from highschool will all be saved for the torturing. Pictures will be guiltly placed aside in s

Build a casket for your tears, they're as dead to me as you are. Use the pieces of our broken nothing to construct the walls. Use the sheets that kept our cold bed warm as the lid. My hands that once held you so tight while imagining you were someone else can be the handles. Dig the hole with the nails you used to drive in my back, never again will I know that sweet pain. When you're done hold my hands one last time and lower your tears to the bottom. You lost this game and I've lost you. Now go on quietly mourning for your tears, you're the only one who does.