sinful.

suppress these feelings into non existence..... cause you don't exist to me.... nor that god that you believe in who allows for so much suffering and blood shed. 

we all come from the same place, you say.... 

and perhaps we do..... but, we are all in search of different things ...... 

my enlightment isn't written within the scriptures. and i'm reluctant to ask for forgiveness for my sins, cause i've savored them all... and if they bring me to my damnation, so be it.... i won't repent.  

there's a deeper truth to those lies that you tell me....... to those lies that you tell yourself. 

but i'm not in search of it. i'm not in search for you. and i've already found myself.  

line of fire.

you smell of alcohol and self loath. 

you're at the bottom of the bottle, again....  where you can't hear your conscious. where my words seem to get to you. 

you don't let me come close to you. don't let me get to you. don't let me in.... yet even from here, i'm too close for comfort. 

i tell you, people like you..... i prefer to love from a far and that's always the worst way to love. 

but sometimes it's the only way to. 

 

-sideline stories from a girl who spectated the man she loved self destruct in the personal inferno he created for himself. 

 

 

  

the turntables

i don't know how to lose. i don't know how to love.  and, i don't care to learn.... 

what does that make me? what does that leave us with ? 

i won't pretend like i know what it's like to be at the other end of the sword.  because i don't. 

this isn't what you bargained for.. it's more.  

but it'll cost us both. more than we can afford.  

now we are out of currency. 

and we are out of frequency.  

our touches out of synchrony.  

what do we have to lose ? 

i can't lose.  

what do we have to love ?  

i don't know how to love. 

and, i don't care to learn.  

but, you don't care to teach me.  

so we both lose......  something that we never even cared to win in the first place. funny how things turnout, sometimes. 

love games.

love is you.....  

the prints of your fingertips as they trace up and down my skin, with each stroke engraving themselves deeper into the essence of my soul. 

i want to play tic-tac-toe on your flesh. 

out of line, out of order.  

let the walls keep score, let the record spin..... and if the sheets were ever to talk, may they say that we let love win.