pianissimo
Posted in life, love, personal, relationship, romance, thoughts ¶ Tagged #iloveyou, bisexual, daydreaming, love ¶ Leave a comment
the last time I found myself day dreaming about a boy I was 17 and he was unadulterated sweet sweet sin and at 19.5 I feel something akin to that high for a 17 year old boy who nurtured an open wound in a way I forgot I deserved.
it is 3:35 pm when I wake up and see the ‘I love you’ don’t realize the implications and repeat it back (I do love him) we joke around and then he comes back to the ‘I love you’ but this time adds ‘I’m asking you out’ my heart doesn’t beat the way it did when I was 17 and a stupid boy told me he loves me I don’t call my girlfriends and analyze every word that is said I don’t stay awake all night thinking about the dim-witted lexis I could recall till a year after but gladly cannot right now.
he’s just another boy (and I do love him)
‘are you saying you’re crushing on me?’ I finally ask and get a breathless, impatient ‘yes’
my words are not rushed and for a moment I’m proud I don’t say ‘but we’re so young’ ‘but we shouldn’t’ ‘but this is not okay’ like I once would have (and did). calmly I only explain ‘I’m not ready’
I’m not
-and I find no resistance and there is no coercion but a simple “I understand. it’s okay” and I don’t see it right then but I see it right now; it started
x
the last time I found myself day dreaming about a boy I was 17 and he was unadulterated sweet sweet sin –the first shot of whiskey, the very first smoke (hesitant, bitter, wild). I blushed I doodled I daydreamed I flirted I (shaped myself up so I could fit his broken bleeding pieces) built a place in my head and I was never alone (he was always there) in it
it never happened this time around.
my heart won’t race my tongue won’t stutter my mind will not forget that I am an entity separate from this boy. this time it’s sweet aftertaste of fruit juice it doesn’t sting there’s no high and eventual destruction it’s just delicious and that’s all there is to it
that’s all there is to it.
x
the last time I found myself day dreaming about a boy I was 17 and he was unadulterated sweet sweet sin –he liked telling me what he likes in a woman and I liked pretending that I have it.
In our world for some of us there are dire consequences for associating with the opposite gender. At 17 I didn’t talk about sex but he did. I wasn’t much into the idea of dating but he, he’d already had girlfriends and was not shy of talking about them. ‘my ex sang it to me once.’ he said when I casually mention I find this song nice. I thought about it all day.
at 19.5 I’m more open about sex, glaringly aware of my sexuality wishing I wasn’t because I do not belong here I do not belong
and this sweet boy comes about when I was retracted into my shell and he says ‘I know’ when I tell him I’m bisexual he tells me all about the single women in his life when I tell him I don’t want to get married – I don’t have to say how cruel our world is to women to a guy for the first time in my life when all I’ve ever gotten from even my girl friends is a haughty laugh and ‘but you’ll change your mind’ ‘you don’t have a choice in the end’
I don’t have to pretend I don’t have to pretend
x
the last time I found myself day dreaming about a boy I was 17 and I imagined it rough because he was candy coated coffee grounds the kind of guy who cares but only just the right amount (the only thing he’ll feel when he leaves is momentary guilt till he asks if you can be friends again and repeat) I imagined bruises and bite marks and violent thrusts and oh! sweet nothings
he was not shy of asking (do I not love myself)
at 19.5 I imagine timid hands pressing my flesh, I imagine hushed questions before every move I imagine slow kisses and fingers trailing every inch of my skin I imagine the ‘fuck you’re magical’ after the final shove actually means something (I love myself) and I imagine –
he’s not mine to hold
Posted in life, love, personal, relationship, romance, thoughts ¶ Tagged #iloveyou, bisexual, daydreaming, love ¶ Leave a comment
the last time I found myself day dreaming about a boy I was 17 and he was unadulterated sweet sweet sin and at 19.5 I feel something akin to that high for a 17 year old boy who nurtured an open wound in a way I forgot I deserved.
it is 3:35 pm when I wake up and see the ‘I love you’ don’t realize the implications and repeat it back (I do love him) we joke around and then he comes back to the ‘I love you’ but this time adds ‘I’m asking you out’ my heart doesn’t beat the way it did when I was 17 and a stupid boy told me he loves me I don’t call my girlfriends and analyze every word that is said I don’t stay awake all night thinking about the dim-witted lexis I could recall till a year after but gladly cannot right now.
he’s just another boy (and I do love him)
‘are you saying you’re crushing on me?’ I finally ask and get a breathless, impatient ‘yes’
my words are not rushed and for a moment I’m proud I don’t say ‘but we’re so young’ ‘but we shouldn’t’ ‘but this is not okay’ like I once would have (and did). calmly I only explain ‘I’m not ready’
I’m not
-and I find no resistance and there is no coercion but a simple “I understand. it’s okay” and I don’t see it right then but I see it right now; it started
x
the last time I found myself day dreaming about a boy I was 17 and he was unadulterated sweet sweet sin –the first shot of whiskey, the very first smoke (hesitant, bitter, wild). I blushed I doodled I daydreamed I flirted I (shaped myself up so I could fit his broken bleeding pieces) built a place in my head and I was never alone (he was always there) in it
it never happened this time around.
my heart won’t race my tongue won’t stutter my mind will not forget that I am an entity separate from this boy. this time it’s sweet aftertaste of fruit juice it doesn’t sting there’s no high and eventual destruction it’s just delicious and that’s all there is to it
that’s all there is to it.
x
the last time I found myself day dreaming about a boy I was 17 and he was unadulterated sweet sweet sin –he liked telling me what he likes in a woman and I liked pretending that I have it.
In our world for some of us there are dire consequences for associating with the opposite gender. At 17 I didn’t talk about sex but he did. I wasn’t much into the idea of dating but he, he’d already had girlfriends and was not shy of talking about them. ‘my ex sang it to me once.’ he said when I casually mention I find this song nice. I thought about it all day.
at 19.5 I’m more open about sex, glaringly aware of my sexuality wishing I wasn’t because I do not belong here I do not belong
and this sweet boy comes about when I was retracted into my shell and he says ‘I know’ when I tell him I’m bisexual he tells me all about the single women in his life when I tell him I don’t want to get married – I don’t have to say how cruel our world is to women to a guy for the first time in my life when all I’ve ever gotten from even my girl friends is a haughty laugh and ‘but you’ll change your mind’ ‘you don’t have a choice in the end’
I don’t have to pretend I don’t have to pretend
x
the last time I found myself day dreaming about a boy I was 17 and I imagined it rough because he was candy coated coffee grounds the kind of guy who cares but only just the right amount (the only thing he’ll feel when he leaves is momentary guilt till he asks if you can be friends again and repeat) I imagined bruises and bite marks and violent thrusts and oh! sweet nothings
he was not shy of asking (do I not love myself)
at 19.5 I imagine timid hands pressing my flesh, I imagine hushed questions before every move I imagine slow kisses and fingers trailing every inch of my skin I imagine the ‘fuck you’re magical’ after the final shove actually means something (I love myself) and I imagine –
he’s not mine to hold
