Heat Stroke Dreaming Mirages And Fleeting Lust



I’ve been writing poems all these weeks about him in my own cryptic way. I dreamed about him yesterday that was the first time in five months, call me pathetic. You’re not the first. But I’m not dreaming about him, not the real him. I’m dreaming of that boy I never knew. The one in the corner of the class room that startled my heart’s beat even when every boy had cooties. It still alarms me that he has this control over me, making me fall in and out of my words. I know him now, the true him. He’s not nearly as attractive as the mysterious boy I used to dream of. But when he tells me the truth, I feel myself thrusted head first back in and out of my words. I’m terrified that these fingers will fail and my lips won’t emit even one attractive sound. He terrifies me like no one else. I don’t like the feeling that someone could command me without muttering a word. I could take my life for him.

He doesn’t give a second thought to me, if I’m ever fortunate enough to earn a first thought. I’m the fleeting in his mind. She was permanent and he broke her heart. What am I to expect? A new born man? A love only the best romance novelists could put into words? It won’t come. He won’t save me. But still, I try my best to be beautiful. I try my best to earn more than what is handed to me. Nothing. Give me one thing God, I beg of you. Grant me his love. Grant me his heart. And I’d give you my last breath. It isn’t worth much, but on the borderline cliff falling it is my last word. It is you. Because “I love…” isn’t worth nearly as much as “I love you.”




I’m silent, what am I to say? If you understand, could you tell me? I need the one to three’s of falling out of love. I can’t breathe under these conditions. I can’t live without these confessions. I don’t need a common ground; I’d move to yours. Asphyxiate my love. I’d breathe in your hopelessness, sadness, depression. I could counter the silence if you just spoke those words I’d die to hear. Tell me, just tell me what I want to hear. Do you understand? Understand me, please. Because I’m not breathing anymore and I need your lips on mine to push all these horrible thoughts out of my mind and off my lips. I’m so concentrical in the way that I can’t stray off this hopeless path to you. You make me numb like a dose of Novocaine. You drive me insane like defect in my binary code. I’m a machine that I can’t escape. I’m a death you can’t detach yourself from. You’re you and him and everything I’m breathing.

Rikki [not romance]

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Heat Stroke Dreaming Mirages And Fleeting Lust

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