"Those beautiful eyes"
The night silence surrounds us both as I hear nothing but my own deep breaths,
My heart jumps as it first feels your hand touch mine and I fight to control your opened thighs,
Somewhere in this soft darkness I feel your breath inch closer to mine as my hand so softly slides up your arm where it finds a comfortable home beside those eyes,
I look upon your face as the moonlight glitters inside your elegant eyes falling even more mesmorized with every moment fueling this arousing passion that I can no longer ignore,
Somewhere in those eyes, your beautiful eyes, I lost all self control and fell more in love with this feeling,
my hand continues to wander as I nibble on your ear whispering sweet nothings for you to hear, I let you feel my delicate brushes of my fingertips around your naval as I fall even more in love with this lust, under your blouse my hand has wandered and I'm too far in love to ever look back to ponder,
all over my body an uncontrollable shiver of desire has overwhelmed my senses and all I want is for our naked bodies to be against one another as we feel the silky sensation of our skin sliding against each other,
I want our lips touching with eyes closed so tight,
I want our breaths deep and long as we slide back and forth,
I want to feel you from the inside, again and again and again with
nothing but our sweat and soft moans for the moment,
I want it all but Im still only here staring into your eyes,
your beautiful eyes.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
"Those beautiful eyes"
Monday, August 25, 2008
I wait in so many ways for this pain to go away but everytime my mind touches them the misery becomes real again. Like when the light slips up over the dark and the veil is stripped away making me see what it is this darkness would have me live with. Why I say for I dont ask anymore, so why I say inside every moment of every day beside the lurking fear of finding it again today. There is no place left inside this hallowed shell of pain, nowhere left to go and nothing left to see but this empty shell of misery. Knowing not within time where other than here holds all I want to know, two places at once, nothing I can do so knowing nothing I lose all I once knew. I know not what you speak of and I dare not know that which I do not understand for there lies at my hands that which I cannot grasp just to haunt me in my face with all that I do not understand.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
I don't do regualar posts on this blog but I have gotten a lot of questions asking me where I get my inspiration from to write my pieces. So I decided that I would just dive a little into my thought process so you guys can understand where my writing stems from. Firstly, not all my writing is pulled from personal experiences, its just that I understand personal issues real well and I can strip away everything with an unbiased perspective to the point where these ideas exist just barely enough where most overlook them. What I do is try to get in the right state of mind, I try to ignore distractions but I dont get rid of them because every little sound, image, or touch can evoke a certain feeling or idea that you may have otherwised overlooked.
Once I find that one feeling or idea, I strip everything away from it leaving only the very essence of what makes it real and I try to understand how its real. I look at the very building blocks of an emotion or feeling and I look at it like a stone in my hand. I see it from all angles and see it for what it is. I am now free to add any situation to it, free to fabricate its existence and create the feeling.
Its easy to get lost in an idea and we do it all the time when we daydream. Sometimes I get so lost in a thought, I go blind to the world around me and venture into this fabricated realm that I have created just to fine tune the feelings one would feel in a certain situation, almost to the point of having to live it. And for me, inspiration can come from anywhere, a song, a person, the sound of the wind blowing the leaves outside my window, the clouds looking down on me, the way the grass feelings against the palm of my hands, everything evokes a certain feeling and most ignore those feelings where I try to realize they are there and understand what my mind is feeling when it happens. Its those little things that really build the complicated mess of emotion and thought a person is encompassed of because everything stems from somewhere. You take it back to the most basic of things and you realize the beauty of how intricate an emotion can be and its butterfly effect.
I try to think about the things people are scared to acknowledge or just dont realize that are there. I try to find the things that have fallen in through the cracks that leave only the emotion. I find the feeling behind the emotion. I see the little pieces inside the machine, I see the intricate and complex beauty of a distorted, jumbled mess of thoughts and sort them out. One at a time.
pictures from deviantart
Saturday, August 16, 2008
On a lonely quiet summer night I sit in silence waiting for that slice of time. My wandering eyes find their way around the tiny sounds of midnight and ponder. The soft gurgling of the stream grabs hold of my ears and I listen; I listen to the deepest thoughts of where there is nowhere left to go. The night is the thick blanket that accompanies me when my mind is cold, it is the companion to dark thought; the darkest thoughts of night. Waiting for that thin sliver to call my own inside the cesspool of lonesome questions that live inside shadow, I wander about only to find that I exist to cause myself pain and I lose myself again. I lose myself every time the night grows dark.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
"A single solitary tear"
I live with the pain inside everyday of my life and everytime I stare at the ceiling lying awake at night I drift away from everything that is and was and realize the early morning frost forming on my window, staining my eyes with what seems like forever and falling into that single solitary moment where time seems to count for nothing. All I feel is the emptiness before my eyes, the hallowed out memories of a life not worth living and yet the early morning frost forms. The droplets streak down the glass leaving their trail for my eyes to follow, not waiting for the world to notice, just waiting for my eyes to hallow. Everytime the night grows long the pain inside streaks down may face leaving a trail for no one to follow and still the early morning frost forms. The thin crystals of ice await my eyes to find that single solitary moment, existing for that one brief instant to stain my mind as I watch here in this mirror my single solitary tear. To drift away from everything that is and was and realize here in this mirror all my pain poured into this single solitary tear as it holds the truth of how vain it really is. These eyes stare into my soul as my tear rolls downward to the end of its existence, to finallly let go crashing unto the floor to nevermore be a part of my soul.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Here I am feeling it again, a feeling from so long ago felt for someone whom had no face and died a death only as memory but here it is again, felt again and still waiting. I can feel it creep up again long after what was deemed the end and yet this moment still exists waiting for the right alignment. Still lingering to find a moment cut from time, to exist forever folded upon itself never to let go and to always have that moment. You remembered me before you knew me and I longed for something I never knew was there, you felt the touch of my memory in a brief moment of alignment before we ever met, wandering leisurely with only those moments with no space in between to ever know we were ever together in a tiny slice of time cut away from the rest. In that moment we saw only the best thats why the pain is so real, thats why the pain is so deep, because I can feel it creep up again long after I thought I had left it behind, but I lied, I saw it again somewhere in those eyes, and in the end there to stand alone am I because I saw it again somewhere behind those eyes.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
When will that last goodbye escape my lips? Those last words I hope to say and yet here I stand above your grave. I say it everyday and mean it in a moment. I walk away everyday and the remnants of those dead days lingers on my face. When will that last goodbye escape my lips? Like the moment you drift to sleep, never knowing when it happens; you just fall into the darkness in a peaceful tumble, sinking away from reality, resting peacefullly until those dreams remind you. When will that last goodbye escape my lips?