Post Coitus, In Utero

There is an end to every beginning,

Is this our peak?

Did you orgasm already?

And I'm not even the slightest bit turned on yet.

The indifference attacks my soul and hits where it hurts the most.

That's alright.

I tell myself.

I'll just go away, like I've done every other time. 

I won't lie and say that I don't feel cheap.

I feel used.

Disillusioned.

This heartache was not required though, you could have been so much more gentle.

Your inability to love breaks my heart and it hurts me.

But thank you for triggering me to write possibly my most favourite song till date. 

If fate has it, you'll one day realise what you have lost.

If not then I don't even care, you were just a mistake I made. 

I'm going to spread love.

So much love till it drains me out.

Love that could have been just for you, but oh well. 

Monsoon Is For Making Love

Sweet, sweet loving.

No pain.

No melancholy.

Endless kisses.

I don't want to forget.

But the taste of you in my mouth feels bitter now and all I want to do is forget.

Afternoons in your room.

Making love.

Making conversation.

Making more love.

Endless love.

Sometimes fucking for recreational purposes. 

Hot sex, cold wars.

But always in sync.

The beauty of two souls finding a connection.

It's hard to reach that level of intimacy.

Tell me you've found that with someone else now.

Tell me you're over me.

Tell me you never loved me in the first place.

The first time I dropped acid,

It was surreal.

I couldn't stop kissing your face.

I was in love.

I was in love with you.

You kiss me and kiss me some more.

Kiss my face.

Kiss my body.

Kiss my soul.

And I'll match your intensity.

Orgasms with you were different.

Probably because I was madly in love.

I'd like to think you were in love with me too.

I console myself thinking that at some point you probably did love me.

Not for my body but for who I was as a person. 

I go on my own adventures now.

So do you.

Two straight lines meet at some point but only once.

They separate.

Never meet again.

We met in fall and separated in spring.

I wish we'd spent one monsoon together.

It is my favourite season.

Note To Self

Hello naive girl,

If you've woken up crying the next day after fucking someone, then you should probably stop fucking the said person. He will probably make you feel the same every bloody time, I wouldn't count on things to change. If you feel bad about having sex with someone instead of reminiscing fondly, then no good can ever come from that. There's absolutely no need for you to martyr yourself every time a lost cause comes along. He'll figure it out on his own without you, if not then too bad. You can only go a certain distance, he has to be willing to keep up with you.

Life is hard.
It's harder if you're stupid.
Get your shit together, get over it.


Love,
Me.

This is going to be a no-drugs month. Strictly. I've got to get my shit together before the gigs.

Life is hard but I always pull through.

You won't see the breakdown.

No one will see the sadness in my eyes.

I'm superwoman.

I can do it all.