I want to believe, that I could keep firm in my stand while loving you. I want to convince myself of this lie, that I could love you while you stab me in the back. For I need you to love me, I need to know that in stead of crying alone in bed tonight, I could revel within those sheets with you trying to forget, I could pretend to listen to the beat of your heart as I watched out for mine. I need to know that I am strong, strong enough to love you while hating you the most. I need to know just how much I'd go against myself, for a few moments with you.

...and when you finally find it, they'll tell you there's a method to love. You ain't doing it right, check their hearts again, after all, tongues aren't just satisfied by savory alone, they like sweet spicy, salty! They whisper against your lover's dreams, warnings of your doubts, shrieks of your beauty and its possible impossibility. You stand no chance in the world of man, even I ain't here to warm your heart, nothing around you is. So, are you going to be stupid or learned?

Just how do I sit and be in sync with this world? She's nasty and ill mannered, and being of it I follow filled with rage and constant fear. She giggles as I tear at the seams, and pours when I'm drowning alone at sea. Hah! Mother earth? What a joke!!

It was as though they put a gun into my mouth, cocked it and asked me to dance over a dead lover's body. And I am seething by the day, if I shouldn't kill myself soon, it'd probably be everyone else.

I've heard the waves hit less harder after a while, like it's force slowly drains...sand in a child's hand. Yet crumpled beneath this blanket, the burr in my heart seems more jagged than ever, frozen into fading shades of questionable periwinkle. I'll the feel the pain through this movie tonight, I'll cry again as I put on my lotion in the morning.

I remember picturing the whole thing over again in my mind. The long redder than red flowing dress clinging desperately to the tips on my chest, the zipper in the back barely there, it's end just at the small of my back. It was a picture, art calloused with the need to be seen, respected and more so, wanted. He wouldn't know it but the celebration would be mine and mine alone. The first bang to a well done deal, a significant tear against the sheet covering my shame. And so as my bare feet brushed through the dewy dawn grass, my face torn to my ears with painfully drawn smiles, ring slipped into a cold unsettling hand, it would be a war conquered. A worse battle began.

The oyster was just too big,  so raw and it smelt of rotten fish

So I dipped a finger trying to feel around, shook it maybe I’d have heard a sound

But it snapped and barked at me, lost a finger and I couldn’t point no further

Dropped my cup and it silently shattered, spilled my tea and my mind was tattered

Blue and black, slowly my facets stain. Soaked in burns or maybe just the pounding rain

And my feet are bleeding, the shards from my broken mug aren’t just teasing

Smutting out they drain the last of my tea, fading out, was this the last of me?

So I painted red all over town today, humming an elegy of my anticipated eulogy

Shrieking out loud, maybe they could mend my mug

Seeking some clout, I wouldn’t have minded a hand

But they painted me foul, such a fashion less babe!

Shat on my tears, their spit on my face

So I ran for the sea to clean up my shite

Found me some tea, a mug big enough for me.

She always thrived in the night, it was as though all the scenes of day and their ravenous weights simply lifted with the engulfing darkness. This particular one she found herself on the roof of the house, ecstatic, mostly from the thought of temporary bliss that repressed the emotions within. Taking a deep breath, other several ones... She leaps from her feet as if at dance with an imaginary being, the grace at her landing severely poised like he actually held her by the waist, afraid she'd break.

By and by, the leaves from the overhang trees glowed with every other one of her twirls and more and more the hands in hers come to life with that man right Infront of her. It must've been a feat for the eyes as they pranced about each other, two tigers growling from ill repressed hunger, muffled roars of wanting satiety, conscious movements with light faded moments, some of total and absolute euphoria each relinquished to the mercies of the other, a different one and you see them break apart, their touching only just barely. Heavy chested duo, vulnerable, untrusting, mute... Maybe from too much beauty, maybe just from too much pain. Hands apart, slowly the leaves fade away, their light drained by every other one of her teasing taps. When it's all gone and her love lost, dawn breaks in her eyes, the cool morning breeze carrying away her tears.

I wonder what becomes of me now... When my husband, a natural chatterbox(I love this about him)comes home carrying nothing by his mouth, in his hands he bears gifts, unnecessary but he shoves them by my platter. His lips against my forehead moist, warm unfamiliar linger longer and right there with my head against his chest I can feel the erratics of his laden heart, a minute too slow I thought he must've been dead, another too fast it wasn't the usual.

Pulling away, I feel my heart sink... Tanking deep into the hearths of my stomach, except today there lacked warmth from all its surface, the few sparks that always flew round now drowned in the forced smile that he struggled to draw from his lips.

How fast can a woman forget her love?

How deep does my broken heart have to drown for my strength to come? For even then away from the arm that kept me warm, beside that heart that did me wrong, she still loved and loved. Bloody unwarranted love, sad psychotic love...

I came so close to holding his hand yesterday, I stood behind him anxiously waiting to pick my room keys. His voice as he engaged the friend Infront of him paralyzed my senses, it was exhilarating to have been this close to him, in that line on that late evening I felt so vulnerable, still like I held so much power I could have kissed him if I wanted to. Slowly advancing forward, I couldn't help but move a little closer, the heat from his body now caressing the edges of my nipples, closer and I lose myself into his motions, trapped in some beautiful darkness in light. Until he turns around,"What do you think?" And before I can figure out what exactly he was talking about, he is back talking to his friend. I'm left with the explosion of his hand on my shoulder, that single moment when I almost grabbed it and pulled him to me, felt his breath against my face..." Hey, it's your turn" I move forward, pick a key and run to my room.