On how I loved her.
I loved the way she said randonly " I love the smell of pussy" when we were in the car driving back from a weekend away one time.
I love the way her face looked when it lit up - so many times - when a sting ray flew over her head at the aqaurium, when the kids made her laugh, when I said something stupid only she would understand.
Oh, how I loved her.
When she touched me. Her fngers had a direct connection to my soul.
Her hoody wrapped around her head.
Her doing a school project, the joy she found in it.
Her, after a few, giggling.
Her, reaching for me in the night.
Her arms around me, cupping my breast.
Her hand between my legs, fucking me while I watched her.
Her.
Her.
Her.
Her who got into my soul like no other.
Her.
There's no mirrors in cupboards, her who saw beyond my external appearance, her who loved me in spite of it.
Holding Chaney down to get his stitches.
Getting lost in the freakin' maze and me (trying) to fuck her with the strap on.
NEW
YEARS
EVE.
Cooking.
Me being so mad at her that I want to kill her and her saying "It's OK, it's alright".
Me singing drunkenly and her thinking I'm such a wicked singer.
HER
OMG HER.
My heart, my head, my cunt. Engaged, rearranged, never the same.
Does she know what part she played in bringing me to me?
I doubt she ever will.
Those nights. "So what brings a girl like you to a place like this?" "Got a light?" "Do you came here often?" "I'm here, I'm fucking queer, GET USED TO IT".
I've never been so free, so safe, so me.
I'm not gonna talk about the flip side now 'cos I don't fucking feel like it. I want to REJOICE in the love we had, I miss it so much, already.
"You have the charisma of a hooker"
I miss you, I love you, I will NEVER get over you.
Your mouth on my mouth, taking me places.... showing me the way.
Me riding you, fucking you, showing you who I am.
Why isn't this enough? This kaleidescope of memories, this tapestry of feeling, this montage of moments?
This is a celebration of the good times, a celebration of the unboundless love.
Your fingers in my hair, me pouring you a shot, filling the fucking pool, barbeques, sausages, chops, the look in your eyes that said forever.
I need you to see me, baby - can you see me? The tears in my eyes that will be there forever?
The big one, the pink one, the speculum; all of this was for you. The collar, the lead, the whip, the harness, the beads, all for you.
Do you weep for me, little one? Do you see me in your minds eye before you sleep?
Can you feel me?
Can you feel my soul as it wanders night after night; looking, searching for a place to rest? Do you understand how close we came?
Do you?
Do you know, do you understand how my fingers reach for you but you're already gone?
Can you feel the pounding of my heart when you're so far away?
Do you understand I'm going under?
Do you get that I needed you?
So many mistakes, so much anger. I'm sorry this is how it was.
Your fingers holding mine under that threadbare caravan blanket; I can still feel it. I can still hear you snoring.
You think I don't feel, you think I'm robotic. I thought you knew who I was. the pain that sears my insides; I can feel my organs colliding. They have eaten my feet. they have eaten my tongue. I canot walk, I cannot talk. I am consumed.
They carry me.
I don't like it, I can feel my insides tearing, bleeding. My mind a tangled mess of emotions I know you can't understand. I'm floating, I'm in a place you've never been. It's scary to me. I'M FRIGHTENED.
You eating KFC, you making my drinks, you never stirred them but I still liked them. You never turn the taps off properly, you always leave chewed up gum all over my house I still love you.
What you don't understand is and never will is this ... I love you too much to share. Regardless of what you say, regardless of what you do, I am who I am. This is what makes my love so powerful. I know you want it.
You pissed on me. You saw inside my cunt. You saw inside my head. This is powerful stuff. It cannot be shared.
I am femme. I am Candy 2 Shoogs.
I amthe one who will see into your soul and take you places no one else could.
I am the one who will sing to you whilst looking into your eyes and mean every word, even when I'm dissing you.
I am the one who will cook you lasagne and meatballs and toasties and bacon and eggs even though you dont like it.
I am the one who will let you feel when I am ovulating.
I am a work in progess; I am shifting, I am changing. I am feeling.
I'm in trouble like only you know and I will rise above like only you know I can.
It was a secret story, you and I. Full of secrets, full of inside information, full of things no one else could know.
Feel it.
It's complicated, it's fucked up, IT FUCKING HURTS,. The sleepless nights; the restless days, the tears, the anguish the torment. All stiches in the pattern of what we made. It's precious, it's priceless, I cover myself with it when I sleep.
My mouth on your neck, pressed so hard my teeth are pressing up against my gums. I can't breathe but I don't care.
Me getting a cut under my eye from licking your pussy and you grinding your cunt into my mouth so hard that again, I can't breathe.
The man shaking his fist in the caravan park. His akubra.
Big Brother and the meals we used to cook to watch it.
Fucking Woolly at Blonde.
Julie and John next door.
Getting pissed with Jen and Kenny. You banging on and ON about how much you love Jen.
Robmacca.
For she's a jolly good lezzo and so say Anne and Jess.
Dead pidgeons in pools.
QUEST.
You have been loved.
Friday, November 27, 2009
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