Instead of a jaw clench, I twist and bite my bottom lip. No more downturned scowl! I have a cheesy, pink-cheeked grin now. Lungs suffocating to finally breathing even when life’s challenging, that’s what you’ve given to me.
What you may not know is that I have a light behind my lids where you walk in the door, and you look into my eyes when I touch your skin…a moment that strengths my soul, inspiration for more.
I don’t know what we’re doing, I don’t know if it actually means anything to you, but you make my eyes smile so tight with pleasure that the corners become wet.
I wish I could tell you tonight that I dream of running my hand over your skin, learning you as you feel my hand move, a game in which we both win…
Oh my fantasy, that’s what you do to me. I want someone I can’t have, but who drives me crazy.
(Sorry, I don’t know how to share the adorable clip picture thingy of riding a mechanical ‘bull’ but a hot corn dog! I shit you not, it got me in a funny way that I’m struggling to ignore with an “Oh! I love you!” Yelled out uncontrolled, lol…I crack myself up sometimes 😅)
Ok so here, this helps to calm me as my theme music when life becomes overwhelming (from an absolutely adored album & my music league entry for round of 7min or longer:)
Piano Concerto No. 1
But, of course this is followed by one of my favorite love songs of all-time…a dedication, if I may be romantic and bold
All day, again and again, I bite my lip smitten by all the ways I can envision playing a game called “Sweet Spot” in which I suck all your sweets as my favorite treats.
(Reality readers: Wow, so easy to love this new track, to go sneak off and do it again and feel the energy that flows through my whole body as I listen (my naughty making my appetite so much more of a lustful craze-crave, but I know I MUST behave!!!
Oh, how I long to play…
Funny, kid in bed and him in the garage, I’m alone on a Saturday night again. But, that’s ok, I’ll just pull out a little friend, who lights up my dark by showing me a door that opens me OUT of my world 🚪;)
Would a part of you kinda want my adoration of you, even the naughty thoughts of my nature?
(Funny thing, his she is not me, but god I fantasize our conversation like he was my untouchable friend, lol. It’s like I’m secretly practicing talking, ok so it’s still in my head, but there’s a “someday” goal to watch him face-to-face again…innocent, of course, me watching him playing masterfully;)
As if I’ve traveled, like I’m there, only better because it’s your voice I hear coming from so close by my ear, so confident, so eager to see, touch, be part of new and exciting things…that’s you, my eyes into a world in motion. I may be marooned, but I’m touched by what you share, like you want me there, lol.
Idealistically:
Why does he affect me with such lucidity? Why does picturing his face draw my hand to my chest as if to touch his hand inside holding my heart afloat?
Reality:
I always check myself at night before I indulge again, “He doesn’t know you exist, be satisfied by him allowing you to keep escaping with his images!”
A brain’s heart so touched it can’t help but burn with bursts of love.
I’ve been hiding. No one noticed. I went to bed way too early, no TV, no music, no beautiful video to lull me to a good night’s sleep. Two days, only me, watching in my head, an emptiness, a hole growing like “The NOTHING” with me needing belief in the creative, golden light to make everything alright.
Now, I’m scared to touch that fire in me again would be dangerous…
I don’t have unrealistic expectations, but unreachable dreams that obviously could never be stroked, will never be embraced, a kiss never to be placed upon the lips I see at night in my sleep.
As I lie in bed, waiting for nothing to happen, I pretend he’s facing me, and I can study his eyes, trace every inch of his face, tell him about my day:
Like he’d care a beautiful ten year old girl at the special needs camp had trouble with sudden outbursts of anger and frustration, however, I happened to hear her say, “…and the wizard told the girl…”
I said, “I love wizards! Is that what you’re drawing?”
She told a few lines of her story, then went about talking to herself again, but calmer. Only he could see how cool this moment was for me.
I broke through with the toughest kid in camp because I met a wizard who truly does do magic.
How can anyone compare to how such a simple thing can make my heart remember how to with beat warmth, even on one the coldest of summer’s nights.
Fighting a war with my impulses now You’ve inspired me again. My muse, You win. I’ve lost control, sniff-licking the phone-mirror as if to inhale You like pink crystal meth, I have to catch my breath…
For days, You bounce dream to dream (even while I’m serving ice cream), tingles from You become part of everything!!That’s why talking to You terrifies me…
Love, as You may know by now,
Feel You UpHorny Toad (Hard to be me;)
Ok so yeeessss!!! Ridiculous, right. Living loving my dream life. God, you make my eyes smile as my heart dances with a double-beat.
Then, a mid-day snack with my nap, dreamt by surprise when at noon my body collapsed: Unbeknownst to me, you arrive through a halo-appearance, like on some Next Gen episode, and as our eyes lock, you begin to walk to where I sit, then, bending your erect, long body down to this broken frame, your one hand cradles the left side of my face, your arm encircles my shoulders, and you whisper, “Hello.” Every pair of eyes in the room, suddenly gone, as I glide the back of my fingers down both of your cheeks with a direct stare into your gentle gaze never letting go…
While you lean your lips upon mine, allowing me to taste every inch of you, I re-learn to give in, to invite the good feeling to actually pervade, trusting the end result is a love I didn’t have before, loving myself more…
(Honestly, me bubbling with mirth??? Absurd. So, here I am, on a sunny day after a horny-little cold-cry at a firey–joy from the hot image of your lips wet by mine…I know I’d love to lose control if I were to see you again in real life. Not that it matters, for you are more beautiful than someone this hopelessly inappropriate could ever deserve. Is it wrong to plead with hyperbolic intention, “Please, hear my words, I’d do anything to feel our metaphors merge.”)
Hopelessly Inappropriate Thoughts 