I give doses of me, as I see fit. I'll never give my all when I don't feel the presence of forever in my bones. And you shook my entire skeleton. I like to know the why to everything. You maneuvered your energy and made me feel it through each goosebump individually.
Why the fuck am I still writing about you...at 2:23 AM? Or sometimes in the middle of my days. It's not that I'm not enough, maybe I am not enough. But I know...it's not that I'm not enough, these are my thoughts. This is what you've done to me. I might need you to admit this shit. I might need a written letter from you descriptively elaborating why I'm SO enough. Written. Cause I need the effort...ha.
I feel like I can't do this unless you figure yourself out for me so I can figure me out too. I feel like you're that piece I'm missing on myself and you stole the fucking glue. Maybe it's because you're too unfamiliar with yourself to see me and that bugs me. Maybe you're low key selfish and you just didn't/don't want to miss out on me. Whatever it is I need the truth...cause the taste in my mouth doesn't feel like we've put all our cards on the table. I mean it doesn't matter anymore, so why worry...let me owe you a favor.
Remember roses have thorns...but women like me, sunflowers...all we ever do is love. And yes I'm pure, I noticed once I realized all the pain I got piled up from those unconscious about unconditional love, once I placed on top of everything else the pain you inflicted in me. with no revenge in my veins. Just forgiveness, because I understand humans to an extent where they can't comprehend themselves. And here I am trying to comprehend you. Listen, every vapid motherfucker I meet just brings you back to my mind. You might need to read this piece a couple of times.
it haunts me. And I'm exhausted, so fuck that "sorry" just for your own peace of mind shit. Take responsibility. I mean, dwell in regret and pain a little bit and let me take a peek. Learn something. Some days it seems you're nonexistent and others I can't think about anything else but the way your eyes smile. And that fucking smirk.
The way you rose my spirit just by raising my dress over my thighs and ass as you squeezed me with that same passion you expect me to believe no longer exists. The ways you'd fall into me like getting out wasn't an option. But let's simplify it and say maybe my body just needs sex. Let me confess.. the perishing butterflies in my stomach still flutter the rare times it comes around and you say "I'm on my way" they're weak but there.
They're perishing so it's inevitable......I think. And maybe this will be too real and it'll overwhelm you or give you a headache. Or maybe it'll get rid of you for good. Maybe then I'll get my sweet closure.
Maybe this will be a huge blob of insignificance to you. I kind of wish it too.
This is bullshit you know, all of it. The fact that I'm even writing these words. The fact that with your mere existence..vulnerability occurs. So fuck you if you've got your own agenda in figuring this shit out, or maybe I'm delusional and you really don't give a fuck to know why that bright light you saw me in..dimmed so abruptly. You question the universe, the mind, insanity... so question this. And don't pity me, don't feel bad cause I could really care less about having you. Im a hypocrite cause I crave your energy within my solitude & from my mind I'll always get rid of you. It's a vicious cycle. I just need to know if I ... just wasn't enough for you.