A Piece of me..

Ok so I found this hiding on another site.. it’s a piece I wrote near a month or so ago. I was holding real dear and afraid of letting it go, but I feel I’m ready to let it go now.. I can say my mind has moved on… think what you want… comment if you wish.. I am who I am.. remember that..

A piece of me…

Why do I cry? Why do I try? Why do I hang on to something so transparent and newly born out of such and innocent womb? What is it about her that makes me think and wonder so hard? What happens when I touch her? What happens when I kiss her? What happens when I touch her hair, see her smile, hear her laugh, watch her dance? What happens when she tells me she only wants to be friends when my breasts have graced hers and my body has been passionately driven by her tongue? When her life is so similar to mine? What happens when my mind retraced how sweet she tasted and how sexy and seductive her moans of pleasure were? What happens when memories return daily of adorable she is when she swoops her luscious hair to the side of her face out of her eyes? What happens when my heart wants to cry out and take hold of what took place? What happens when my body misses her touch? What happens when my ears miss her laughter? What happens when my eyes miss her smile? What happens when all my emotions run to her? What happens when I can’t think, feel, do, write, or even walk without wondering what I did or didn’t do? Why did I have to touch her like that? Why did I love seeing her like that? Why did I begin to see her so often and get my hopes up at the sound of another text message? Why did I allow her sensuality into my heart? How could I feel so much confusion and emotion from such little time with an apparent reason? I look elsewhere all the time and can’t seem to find anyone that’s remotely the same. I can’t find her addictive phrases or her addictive personality?. The way she dances without a care in the world having fun. She said she’s never felt that way before. Was it only my poetry that drew her in? What made her feign my scent and taste? What made her so needy of my presence? What gave her the balls to act so happy and then just drop off like that? I told her I don’t do touch and go! I told her my physical involvement with a woman had to be more than that or it would tear me apart! What has she done? Was I used again? Taken for granted like the fool I am? Was I just another phase or experiment? Was I that little quickie that was great for the moment once again? Such a great lover, pleaser, confidante, slave, ****, or whatever comes to the mind? Why is it so much to understand that I’m for real? Why is it so hard to understand I want more? Why can’t they understand I’m more than just a piece of ass? Why can’t they see my ***** isn’t free? Even if it felt awesome? Even if ill dream about it for days? Even I will remember her breasts clear and conscience as if it never ended? Even if I danced for days across the floor with only a hint of her taste and eminence still on my taste buds? Even if the feel of her lips on my skin gave me seductive chills clear down my spine? Even if my hatred of vanilla somehow didn’t exist when she gracefully leaned in to give me a hug and all my senses gathered evidence she was wearing it so beautifully? Her wonderfully rounded ass, her luscious breasts, her passionate touch, her entrancing eyes, her heart-felt kiss, what’s it all mean? She only wants a friend yet she still impresses me with words and actions hinted and well-played? Did I do something wrong? What did I say? What made her pull away? Was it my complicated life? Was it my abrasive ways? Was it my uncertainty of the night? Why did I fail so badly? Why can’t I walk away? How could my attachment be so strong in so Little time? I don’t get it.. I don’t fall this fast? What’s this? Her heart cries out to me once more? Is a treacherous pain of her heart and mind lingering for the touch and memories we carry? I call out to her in assurance that her voice is heard. That I feel the intense pain floating from the sensitivity of my skin to the redness in my eyes. I too have imagined and wished for her arms wrapped around me countless times. With her glowing positive aura that brings me to my next day. In so many words I sit in silent reprieve anticipating her next words. Showing I’ve calmed her screams or that I’ve brought her more pain and tears. My hope gathers slowly and calculated with all my emotional strength in preparation of whatever her response may be. Either way I know in the end, wait….. what end?

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