or whatever twisted form of it I can handle

This was never real. Never

“You know when you see something magical like the first tim you hear about the Hippies or the first time you pick up a Bukowski. Your eyes grow wide, your eyebrows arched. You don’t understand how you’ve lived without being a part of something truly earth-shattering. The magnetic allure sends you spinning and you can’t stand but be a part of it. That’s how I feel about you. I can’t stand by and watch by the sidelines. I can’t watch patiently from a far. I want to be with you. I don’t need titles. We don’t have to be an item. I just want to be all yours and you, mine.”

And he looked at her, no not at her, through her all the way past her head to an imaginary world of sorts. This world where the girl of his dreams resided with the kind of hair that falls into place the moment you wake. She had the sort of walk that trapped the eyes of every man she passed and the gentlest way of kissing. She kissed with the candour of a true female. She was shy in all the right ways and she guided his hands through the map of her body as she kissed his pain away. Why isn’t he listening you wondered. He never has, he never will because you’re not what he wants. You kiss too strong, the curves of your body too demanding- everything about you is a darkened soul-less version of her. He does not want you, he’s merely playing out what he truly wants on your body, through your words, with your kisses.

I’m not good at chasing after guys
They very quickly see thru the lies
Now I’m left alone as before
Oh God above, please open the door
That swings ajar to reveal his soul
His heart so unfeeling, comparable to coal
Melt it, soften it; make him feel for love
Let him know that grace flows freely from above
So as I rest tonight, my sins I lay bare
My heart I trust to thee, this great feat I dare
For loneliness knows the greatest cost
Of wandering this life feeling immensely lost

Maybe its ok for an ounce of skepticism to breed.

shit. I can’t see the number