The sexual chemistry with you is palpable and I never even had the pleasure to grace your presence.
Not one for jealousy, but I’am jealous for the people who had the privilege to bow down and worship at your altar.
I’m in awe of your beauty, brains, body and your lily white skin.
My mind has become my dark passenger.
I can’t stop the maddening impure thoughts of you.
On my crude days, to put it simply, I want to fuck you senseless.
On my endearing days I want to wholeheartedly make love to you.
You’ve brought a yearning voracity I haven’t been able to appease.
Devouring YOUR rosy pink lips
Kissing YOUR scattered birth marks
Tracing YOUR arches and curves
Watching that speck of golden hue in your ocean blue eyes expand and contract whilst I usurp you emotionally and physically.
I never had you BUT I had you.
Thank you. Take care” —
I did it again.
Wrong place; wrong girl.
Girl being the operative word.
I know they say opposites attract but that’s such a cliché that has no basis in truth.
Truth is I loved her…
Truth is I hate myself…
Truth is I don’t know why I loved her…
Truth is I don’t think she had a fucking clue who I’am or knows anything about me…
Truth is I’m at fault for not declaring my self worth…
I still cry for her and I don’t know why?
She was never mine to begin with and probably somebody else’s already.
I don’t think she knows what love is.
Just caught up with the infatuation of love like her previous suitors and maybe my previous suitor.
I fell for the antithesis of me.
Maybe I’m a self saboteur? Or a possessed masochist?
She didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself because when you know better you do better and I sure as fuck knew better but didn’t do better.