Description.

No charm

No grace

But a pretty face

And enthusiastic about kinky sex stuff.

And for someone who, for a moment, showered me with so much affection, it feels strange to learn that there is no love at all anymore.

Then perhaps, it wasn't intimacy, just an escape from oneself.

But what do I learn from this?

Never to give my heart so easy, or that I need to have some pride afterall? 

Turning A New Leaf

I want Phoebe and Mike more than Ross and Rachel or Monica and Chandler. 

So I don't mind trudging along till then.

What is love but madness?

You don't play piano, you don't have to.

But you kiss me so good that I lose myself in you.

And you always remember the tiniest of details, like how I like my tea.

Sometimes when I wake up in the wee hours of the morning, it feels so strangely satisfying to have your arms around me.

I like the way we sleep.

I love how you make me feel.

Let's stay in this time, falling in love is always the easiest thing. 

Coping Mechanisms

I don't know why I often take it out on my body.

It's the easiest, most brutal form of self-punishment I think.

The drugs have been in excess, should I stop? 

In the golden days of MSN Messenger and being 15 years old, I remember the time I watched Requiem For A Dream for the first time; high off my mind on dendrite. It was an intense time growing up. I learnt that we romanticise this concept of wasting away too much. It's not a love/pain that you watch on a screen. this is, infact, your life. 

He was the most gorgeous thing I laid my eyes on. His time was too short and the aftermath of the madness scares me till date. He filled me up with a kind of love that I am sure is out there for me somewhere, existing in its own form.

Surely, he couldn't have been the one.

If he were, then why am I still here? 

Lovers

I want to feel angry, hurt.

Instead, I feel ashamed of who I am starting to become.

He tells me it's not that bad, everybody is cynical afterall.

But he has kissed my mouth, he knows not what the truth is anymore.

I feel like I've corrupted his innocence, his bravery.

I watch him as he's asleep on my bed.

He wakes up briefly and grabs me; pulls me close to him and we spoon.

I kiss the hands holding me.

Shut my brain, go back to sleep.

Not all endings have to be happy.

Not all things have to end. 

Falling in love is always easy,

I want to stay in this time.

Skin Deep

I want to slap the handsome off your face.

So you know that when I tell you how gorgeous you really are,

I'm referring to your soul.

Not your fucking body, or the facade that the world sees. 

Humility/Humiliation

I swallow my pride, 

reach out to you.

As always, you don't respond.

You never do.

I feel a strange kind of self-pity.

"Beautiful, broken"

But most of it isn't my fault. 

I warned you that I was damaged.

And you, you remind me that I am damaged goods.

Not worthy of your affection,

Not worthy of your love.

It hurts. It hurts just like the first time.

But I'm in love with you nevertheless.

You're so beautiful.

And yet you make me feel so ugly.  

End Credits/Demoness

I'm sorry I'm not up for a fuck tonight.

I want to talk about all the morbid thoughts in my head.

Will you love me if I showed you my ugly or like many others, would it scare you away? 

You don't intend to stay.

You never do.

And it's not like I want you hanging around either. 

So just like I'd predicted, we will go our separate ways.

Later, much later, when you call,

I'll tell you that I love you.

Even though I will probably not realise that I perhaps don't mean it.

It's always instinctive, a reflex.

I have learned so much from you.

I have learned so much from the world.

I'm a junkie, I want more.

I only want to suck you, taste every inch of you.

Till you make an imprint in my head.

I do it not to pleasure you, but climax,   myself. 

One Of Those Days

I play along, I do it so well.

You wouldn't think of me as anything but some kind of a beautiful freak.

I kiss. I sing. I abuse my sense of self.

Does my naivety make you feel good? I really can't tell. 

Everything is a loop.

My wild heart, my bad choices.

The scars on my body may have healed,

But they remind me every day what a struggle it has been.

What a struggle it will always be.

To just get out of bed. 

Lover Come Back/Breaking Point

You can feel it starting to come back.

Slowly, sneakily.

It'll take over you, consume you, before you know it.

You're helpless. You're heartbreakingly vulnerable.

Nothing works, it never really goes away.

It can strike when you're in a room full of people. You want to end it all and jump off, a spur of the moment bad decision perhaps. But the instinct is worrying. What if you really do one fine day?

Or it can come to you when you're alone, lonely.

There's no cure.

It is what it is.

You try and think of happy times when you were yourself. But it doesn't help. Memories seem fuzzy and quite frankly, a little bit stupid.

You felt something. You really did.

It wasn't a selfish kind of love.

It wasn't  the greatest you felt, but there was potential. 

And now you're wondering what you did wrong to be in this hellhole.

It was clearly something you did wrong.

Blame yourself, never someone else

It kills you to think that it meant nothing to thw other party concerned. 

Nothing at all.

You were everyday meat.

He was special. 

You were a nobody. 

Heartbreak is always so savage. 

Longing

One day

All this pain will go away.

But I'm afraid you've made me some kind of a monster,

Unable to love again. 

You're so cruel.

And incredibly, incredibly vain.

Why did you take my love when you never intended to stay? 

Dreaming Of You

You knew I was in love with you.

Yet you wouldn't take a chance, 

give some back.

So I retreat into my den,

Like a bruised lioness.

I no longer have the strength to convince you to see me for who I really am. 

My heart feels crushed beyond repair.

And I am in so much pain.

Look what you've done, 

I am broken again.

Older Men

You're so cool.

My stomach is in knots every time I think of our kisses.

It felt real, comforting.

You're so beautiful.

The way you beam with excitement like a child when you tell me your stories.

And now you don't talk to me anymore.

Was it something I said?

Was it something I did?

That made you walk away.

Don't you want me?

I want you.

I still want you.

Every day is hard.

I'm trying to get over you.

What have you done.

If I could rewind, I would.

I'd go back to the time I didn't know of your existence.

Now you're everywhere.

Take away this great pain,

that you've caused me.

Honestly, at this point, that's all I'm asking for. 

You're so great.

I'm just a nobody. 

Juvenile Acts of Longing

I could write a sad song

Or two

About you

But that wouldn't make you come back, 

so what do I do? 

I need you to be mine.

I want to serenade you all the time.

You make me feel so sublime.

This is nothing but another cheesy rhyme.

And yet you know my love for you is true.

Movement

We're dancing.

So close.

I'm into you.

I feel you as we move.

Our brains are so wired.

The anticipation is exciting.

"I can't feel my face when I'm with you, but I love it."

I don't mind the penance.

Glorious days, glorious moments.

Only mine. 

Moan/Mourn

The downward spiral.

My brain is wired.

The lights are dim, the longing is endless.

If not you then another one.

What have I become. 

You were someone else.

And I was so brave.

Sometimes you see the deepest shit on social media.

"We go through phases, like the moon."

It's all about being to relate. Maybe give yourself that temporary satisfaction in knowing you're not alone.

You could feel anything. But it has to be real. 

The fakery all around is exhausting. I can't fight this battle alone. 

But I won't give in, I won't give up.

Not yet. 

The battle lines are still drawn.

You try to prove me right and I'll prove you wrong. 

Infinite Eulogies

I'm talking to myself.

It's like a rubbish soap opera that goes on and on.

You're not here, you will never be.

Maybe I'll play that Duke Ellington record.

Feel old.

Feel glorious.

Or maybe feel nothing at all. 

I don't want you.

I don't need you.

I just want all this pain to go away.

Move on.

But, for what? 

This?