CynicalRomantic

A year I think, or maybe more, it doesn't matter at this point. The brush of your lips against my neck, the motion of your chest, coupled with my indifferent kiss. It was as good as it could be, so much better than the last time. But like you said, "Nothing's ever good enough" for me. So I watched you sprint into the night, knowing I would let you go. Knowing after one imperfect kiss. So, let's glorify this mess, turn it into true love in our heads. And you can be 'the one who got away', If only for the lonely times, such as Valentine's Day.

Dark contrast lessens the exposure. They can see the features, eyes, nose, lips, but know nothing of the details. Intricate, intimate details such as colour tone, hue, and the depth of personality hidden therein. Seeming more intense, with an added air of mystery, the ultimate deception. Veiled portraits of one terrified of judgement, a clever evasion of the cynics just like me.

In the show that is my life I am the Prima Donna. No one upstages me; no one else can steal the show. Do not misunderstand me, My supporting cast are unsurpassed, but it's my story we're telling now,   theirs comes in the second act. I am the queen of melodrama, Comedy turns tragic in a moment. I often play the damsel in distress, to no avail. No handsome prince has come to save me, This is not a fairytale. It could be Greek tragedy, for the heroine is fatally flawed, But I have yet to meet my downfall And plan not to at all. In truth, the curtain has only just risen, The audience and critics await the major plo

You'll never know how close it was, how close I came, to loving you. There was a time quite near the start, I had the notion that I could do, but instead you were the confidant, the one I bared my soul to. By avoiding love I know we've gained, we sidestepped all those silly games that end in broken hearts. A friendship on the other hand, I know we can sustain. Or rather you'll sustain me, and I hope one day to do the same. You are the force that binds me, keeps me safe inside this skin, and I dread the day you go to start Your new life, without me. But we both know it will do me good, To stand alone and not pretend Tha

This scar on my knee is from falling to the ground at the age of three. It scabbed and healed, only to be remembered in idle moments in the bath. The silver line under my chin is a trophy from a childhood game. I ran the fastest, the finish line the floor. Three stiches were my medal. The gash on my finger and the split below my lip came in close succession. For one i blame the dog, the other a rapid deceleration. The pinpricks on my arms are the hidden marks of a thousand needles, and the scratches on my arms are still fresh. But all this heals. It's the self-inflicted damage to my soul that really scars.

The imperceptable shift, the sneaking realisation, prising my mind from yours. Too slow to see, too quick to stop. And my eyes are shut too tight to let the sunset through.

I still remember you, and those wondrous summer days that seemed to stretch on into impossibility. So long ago now, the memories are just snapshots, but each one framed in my mind. You, the warrior, I, the follower, held captive by your imagination and my own curiosity. I miss that. Where are you? Did you conquer your dreams? I can't even remember now what they were but I remember you had them. We both did. Now all that is left is photographic evidence of children playing on the beach, and swinging from trees. But, if you don't mind, that is, I'll look at this from time to time, and revel in sweet memories of clic

What we were was a catastrophe, doomed and damned. Tearing each other apart with razorblades of insecurity, we were callous, cold, cruel. Unyieldingly passionate. What we had was purely lust, cavernous and carnal. We never tarnished it with words of love, it was sex, sweat, skin. Uncomplicated friction. What we're left with is simply this, careless and corrupt. But we'll make do with dissatisfaction; we're misguided, masked, marred. A beautiful mistake.

More than anything, I wish I could just close my eyes right now and sleep. Then maybe I can escape him; escape the wonderful misery he creates for me. He lies just inches from me, slumbering serenely, as I furtively examine the exquisite stillness of his face. I long to reach out and touch that strong arm, but I'm afraid the passion in me might burn him. The last thing I want to do is burn him. I want to feel the smoothness of his skin, touch those delicate eyelashes, envelope myself in him. But he is unaware, and so I lose myself in the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. This desperate aching will continue in the morning

In truth, I was your biggest mistake. Your dirty little secret. But you've washed your hands of me, and for that I applaud you. Together we corrupted everything you had with her. While she sent you pretty messages I was tasting the treason on your lips, and then your body. The things I consider your flaws Are the things she fell in love with. You made that entirely clear, so clear that I saw right through you. You were my biggest mistake. You're a filthy little secret. But you've since had the sense to remain alone, And for that, I applaud you.

Remember the time the English lost the World Cup, and you called in sick to work, and you found yourself on my couch, holding my hand? Remember the time Boston made you dizzy, and you almost kissed me, and we were sort of on a big adventure? Remember the time it was three a.m. and we peed outside the gas station, and you fell over? Remember the time you called me just to tell me the place that made you happiest, and my heart hurt with how full of love it was? Remember the time we decided not to believe in the concept of time? Remember the time you had a girlfriend, and we found ourselves in the dark movie theater, holding ea

Last night I saw the most magnificent rainbow Of my entire life. And yes it got dark And the clouds rolled in, But somehow the realization That that rainbow had once been there Even though darkness now overtook its home Was more poetic and meaningful to me Than the words of every philosopher I'd ever heard.

Two papers still to write, Twelve-inch snowy Christmas shows And a party every night. The town has come alight; It’s luring us away from those Two papers still to write. All our financial plight Intensified by shop windows, And a party every night. We’re chilling out despite That scary way the time just goes - Two papers still to write. But still we take delight In letting all those set texts close, And a party every night. Next year seems far off, out of sight, But deadlines loom, and no one knows. Two papers still to write, And a party every night.

The warm months are here again. Summer is in the air, bringing with it the sweet smell of sunscreen and sweat and sin.  It also brings me the memory of you. Was it only one short year ago that you had my world?  Yes, sweet boy, and I remember it like it was yesterday; the day I fell into you. I remember the air was thick and warm.  Enchanted with summer and youth, I shed my clothes freely and easily, stripping down to a bikini and miles of exposed, innocent flesh.  You did not avert your eyes like you should have.  Instead, you drank me in.  You reeked of lust.  Such unguarded arrogance.  It should have been my first clue. I remember shri

I'm done being sad about this. You made a choice.  It was stupid.  It was wrong.  But you made it.   I may never know why you asked me the things you asked me, why you gave me the answer you did, but I'm done caring. You expect me to be sad and small and walk on eggshells around you.  It's what I should do.  What a proper person would do. Oh sweetie, don't you know me at all? With a simple smile, I will bring you to your knees.