Love is a Stranger in Bondage

Jun 11, 01:20 AM
K. Fine. Really wanna know me? Ha! I have my doubts. But I’ll let you in anyway. I despise the human race. Love is a destructive beast. Truth is I cannot deny my emotions. There’s no hope for me. Truth is childish intuition. Truth is stupid simple! Be careful with that so called intelligence baby. You might start speaking without saying anything at all. Will I still be wildly attracted to you? Probably. You may talk like a tough guy. But you’re all giggles and disco dancing and I can’t stop thinking about that night. We knew! I know we knew everything the whole time. You saw me dancing in our kitchen the moment we met eyes. We weren’t supposed to be looking at each other. But I was only sitting there waiting for you. And you only showed face in hopes of my company. To disdain me openly! And dance like a kid! And hear of how high I had climbed to see things as I did. “Where is this tree that you speak of? The one that let’s you speak so candidly, the entire City runs through your memory. Balboa Park at 3 in the morning. The starving swordsman with a weary heart, aching to cut the first body he comes across. How bold you were. You are! I’m silly. You’re not dead yet. Have you fooled everyone? Do they know where you came from? Have any of them ever even looked up at night? Who looks up these days? I miss you! I want you to know something. But the thing is mine. It sits on the back of my tongue, begging for freedom. I yell it at my ceiling just before I close my eyes. I’m sure its not dreaming until I wake up. I am all knowing. My guts dance inside my tiny waist and make promises I don’t believe. Who dares make a promise they don’t intend to keep! Oh, what a shit world I’ve created. I fell in love with you so I hated you with all my might. I try to enact it without caring one bit about my own heart beating. But I am a terrible liar. I miss you. That’s what I speak when I speak alone.” I smile. You know it’s directed towards you. I don’t hide. I beg in plain sight. I am shameless. Innocence spreads itself across the dimples of my face. But it’s just a face. I want the same thing that you do. I want to be owned by you. I want to kick and scream in defiance until you let me go. I want to be on my own! I want to create! My company is constantly craved. My body wants my own hands. I want you to take everything. I want you to make promises. Tell me a story! The life we have lived in prefect harmony. We hardly agree on one single thing. I want you to throw fits of rage and then I want your forgiveness. I want your left forearm digging into my throat. I want the fingers on your right hand. Your searching for a memory that has yet to meet the presence of your body. You wait patiently. But movement is absolutely necessary! I need you. I cry. I need you to disregard this. I want you to see past my reflection through you. I’m projecting. You are so fucking sad it’s eating you alive. You refuse to feel. So I remember everything. I want you to love me with all your might! I want you to let go when you grow restless. I know the fairytale in its truest form. It’s told inside out to attract the tenderness, approach with caution. Everyone knows, love is hate and dark is light and neither exists without the other. It’s a degusting game. We play it anyway, because there’s nothing else to do. You create love. You recreate love lost. You remember everything. You feel time. You know, we are only here to love. To be love is the only objective. The rest is a mouse trap and a rat race and most fleshy humans waist every fucking breath they take. It’s a shame. But I’m nothing like you. I don’t care about anyone else. They must go their own way. They must create their own saving grace. They are of myself. I cannot do nothing for their health but heal my own skin and bones. You’re the only one I think about, one story at a time. Think about it K, you talk to your ceiling and I dance for your entertainment in an abandoned warehouse. There is no one else. Only one love at a time is meant to consume. The problem with that pocket screen is that it steals time. If you are constantly assessable, you are without yourself by definition. You are sought out by half ass desire with no intention on giving one ounce of energy for the time you sacrifice. There is no love but in real time. I run through the woods at night. It’s raining. I can’t love you without time. There is space between. This takes the possibly of love away. You can say whatever you please. We both know that you see me dancing when you close your eyes. We both know you’re a thief and I am waiting for a confession. Say something! Absolutely anything will do.” Ha! You’re out of your mind baby! How can I steal if everything is mine? I just forget myself. I am no longer an I. When I love you I exist. When I dream I am creating life. A life void of fear and shame is standing before you, taunting your burning flesh with every step I take. Look at me go baby! Look at me! Don’t you want everything! I do. Don’t you want me tied to anything, waiting in wanting? You want me on my knees, don’t you? You don’t want to apologize. You don’t want me to leave. You know that I will. Outside of your imaginings, who am I? Do I have a name? Dare you say it alone? Will you scream it aloud in the dark? I’m in the cemetery dancing naked. I cannot die. I have no desire to count time. Where are you tonight? I am performing for you. Will you take what is yours? Have you fallen asleep thinking? Wake up! Come fuck me. I’m aching to let your love swallow my existing memory.