For my lover, in intimate embrace.

Inspiration in the most fleeting of moments 

Pheromones intoxicate

Connecting on a spiritual plane

Transmuting energy

Transcending limitations and old realms

Uniting lover's souls

Carnal embrace seeping with ecstasy

Two hearts becpoming one

You fill me with raw natural energy 

Soothing the roughest patches of my Soul

You heal me, raise me up.  Never betray. 

My soulmate, best friend, lover, fiancé.

     To the ends of the earth I won't forget

     I owe you with my life, a blessed debt

urgent adolescence

we drank boxed wine and stayed up all night,
choking back the after taste.
your honey flavoured words
woven into the air
blanketing our ravaged bodies
naked; clinging to each other
exchanging a sacred, muffled passion.
sweet amour! transcendent love!
blessed be, those nights of old.


Guess I still don’t see the difference between real purpose and that urgent adolescence

Never Again.

You can't. Can. Not. ask me not to be strong.
I know you want me to let my guard down,
you want me to be myself around you.
And that is perfectly ok.
But being "strong" is a part of me.
Asking me to let that go is as good as asking me to stop breathing.
You saw that Sunday night. 
I swear that will NEVER happen again.
I have never broken down like that.
And I never want to feel that helpless again.
Please understand that I am ok,
As long as I can deal with it my own way,
in my own  head.
 The moment I let that control slip,
crying out, shedding a tear, catching my breath,
That's when the demons become real.
And I will not allow that.
Ever.
Please understand,
You can't ask me to let it go.
I can't afford to have another break down,
Because I'm afraid I might not come back.

i know it isn't much,

but i love you.
and i am sincerely excited for our lives together.
whether it be one quick week, or one long lifetime.
we have so much potential bubbling under our skin.

It seems that we live in a society that teaches don't get raped, rather than don't rape.

We are syrupy, sticky, grotesquely in love.

We are a thick, goopy bottle of liquid cute

that spilled everywhere and can't be cleaned up.

it is fucking disgusting

i hate it

but i love you.

we sure are cute for two ugly people.

but seriously, this overwhelming cuteness is gross.

Transcendental:

tran-scen-den-tal
adjective /ˌtransenˈdentl/ 
Of or relating to a spiritual or nonphysical realm
- the transcendental importance of each person's soul

Frailty, thy name is woman!

i always confuse the date.
valentines day is february 14th,
not the 12th.
earlier i couldn't figure out
why i kept confusing the days
but now i see.

sickness and selfish intentions.
everyone is allowed to screw up big once
its the second time
you commit the same crime
that makes you a disgusting person.
below a beast.
"O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason
Would have mourned longer!
...
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her gallèd eyes"



Frailty, thy name is woman.

You smell like cigarette smoke and dirty intentions.

we are caught up in the current of something great.

Everthing hurts

in the most pleasant way possible.

The Holidays are Always Hard

I can tell by the subtle changes in my thoughts,

The tightness of my skin,

The heaviness of my body,

it must be winter.

I have a few things to say to you.

You know who you are,

And if you are not said person being addressed,

I implore you to mind your own god damn life

and see yourself away from this post.

First and foremost,

I want you to go back

to 12-26-10

on this very blog.

Read the second half

of that day's post.

It was addressed to you.

No, not all of it applies anymore,

but many truths remain.

Once you finish that task,

I want you to stop.

And breathe.

Clear your mind.

Keep breathing.

Ok, good.

Here are the things I couldn't say to you earlier.

It is not as eloquent as I wished,

but this is my message to you.

In no particular order,

I wish for you to know:

1) You are stronger than you give yourself credit.

You just have a problem with acting on impulse.

Step back.

Breath.

Then decide.

ok?

2) Some things don't have a formula.

You can't perform statistical analysis on human beings.

Sometimes you aren't going to know everything

about everyone.

Their motives, condition of heart, or thoughts.

And that is ok.

You seek the truth too vigorously,

and we saw how that ended for Oedipus.

Sometimes you have to let life happen,

instead of picking it apart.

You aren't going to find a satisfying answer that way.

Only more and more questions.

3) You can't protect everyone.

Someone is going to get hurt,

especially now.

Probably multiple people.

But they will heal, learn,

and maybe even grow from it.

You have to stop trying to ease off the pain.

It gathers interest, you know.

The longer you bead around the bush,

the more the debt will grow.

You can't make them happy.

But you can make him happy.

4) Lastly,

and most importantly.

If you break him I will never forgive you.

I'm not saying if you hurt him I will hold a grudge,

or that fixing his heart will make you exempt.

I am saying that

If you you BREAK him,

I will never forgive you.

that is all,

for now.

I need you to save me from myself sometimes.

"Gina. Stop. Lets just cuddle, ok?"

"Ok."

You wrapped your strong arms around me

and spoke softly into my hair.

"I love you."

I felt it. I really did.

I'm addicted to your touch.

It is electrifying.

You make me feel alive.

Its really all come full circle, hasn't it?

We are all having re-runs of each other's past experiences.

Sharing the hatred towards the same girl.

Preaching to him how to keep from sinking---

when he taught me not so long ago.

You have one boy in the palm of your hand,

she has another ensnared around her fingers.

Two relationships falling apart,

Two being built.

Rationing one another's misery.

Lust,

Adultery,

Pride,

Sex,

Envy.

We are going through a relapse of some sort.

aren't we?

Like a brick to the face, it hit me.

Moments ago in Jenna's car, I realized:
We aren't kids anymore.
There is not just being a kid for us.
We can be irresponsible for the rest of our lives,
but being a kid is quickly fading.
When did everything change?
When did crushes and "liking" someone,
become searching for the one to sped the rest of your life with?
When did this all get so serious?

Blanket me in sleep.

Your arms form a security blanket
Around my slight body. Inhale your scent---
The strongest sedative, your pheromones.
Rhythmic breathing in and out lullabies,
Tickling my alabaster neck, delight
My drowsy thoughts. Your pallid skin
Bare against mine, pressing gently, you form
To the curves we conceive. Fitting like a
Puzzle piece. This lazy, languid lounging
Is perpetually tranquil. Iv'ry
For purity, scarlet for passionate
Love, violet elixir, Tempt me to:

A torpid state of saccharine dreaming,
Held safe against the dying of the light.

good night.

this weekend was lovely,
but too short.
i think there are many constructive,
beautiful,
yet possibly painful things
that have been set in motion.
it is going to get better.
for us.
for them.
for her.
for him.
we will all be happy
together.

Why is it that we all need to be loved, but when somebody finally says, "I love you," people just run scared?

Because we feel obligated to say it back, and that is scary—-even if we love that person. Because saying “I love you” makes it a real, tangible thing. It takes something so incredibly incomprehensible and forces you to acknowledge it. And by acknowledging it you accept the fact that loving that person—-inviting them into the deepest recesses of your heart—-gives them power. Power to destroy you, to break your heart and shatter your happiness. Power to tear you up, from the inside out, and to destroy your trust, faith, and hope. Or power to make you feel better than you ever have, to help you, fix you, make you better. Power to love you back and to create something impossibly beautiful among the chaos. And that is downright terrifying.