Lovers - Blog Posts

I am so obsessed

         Got you so ingrained in me

  Your taste your smell your feel too

         So everytime my lips meet

          No doubt they only talk of you.

I want to kiss you so bad. Hard and deep.

         So everytime your lips meet

         You could still taste me.

You are so far away. And I am so down in the dumps. So unworthy. That admiting that I love you feels like fucking hubris.

I made myself sad again. And it's only seven in the morning.

→ Michael "acting choices" Sheen in Good Omens 2

You might not love me but you need me.   

      That has to be enough.

But what to do when

I am not even needed?

I'm the Artist, she's my Muse.

I'm the Devil, she's my Salvation.

I'm the Monster, she's my Humanity.

I'm the Wolf, She's my Moon.

She needs to recharge.

I hope

Why does this feel like a goodbye.

I was too weak

Now she is gone.

50 minutes and I am already waiting for her.

Relatable post that I dont want to relate to.

me giving affection: oh man i really hope im not like overstepping my boundaries here. what if i make them uncomfortable? do they feel obligated to say thank you? am i going too far and scaring them? what if i’m annoying?

me receiving affection: AAAAAAAAA!!!!! AAAAAAA!A!!!!!!!AAAAAAAAAAAA

And so I will stay.

sometimes I wonder how we all survive and then I look at my best friends and I go “oh, I survive because I don’t want to leave you yet” and it makes sense. life is so hard a lot of the time, but I want one more bowl of pasta with you.

I will cry. I am crying. Relatable.

Dean being so nonchalant and laid back hanging out with Cas normally but the second they agree to go on their first date, he becomes flustered and self conscious because he wants to make a "good first impression" on his best friend of 12 years

NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT STRONG ENOUGH NOT STRONG ENOUGH NOT STRONG ENOUGH NOT STRONG ENOUGH NOT STRONG ENOUG NOT STRONG ENOUGH NOT STRONG ENOUGH NOT STRONG ENOUGH NOT STRONG ENOUGH NOT STRONG ENOUGH NOT STRONG ENOUGH ...............................RAGE

Tell me pretty lies

Look me in the face

Tell me that you love me

Even if it's fake

Cause' I don't fucking care

At

All

I am not afraid of death, nor am I afraid of an unlived life.

But I am afraid of growing old, without you by my side.

I never try to leave because I worry that if I try to leave, you won't even try to stop me.

The day I turn the page, I'd reach the end.

“There comes a day when you realise turning the page is the best feeling in the world, because you realise there’s so much more to the book than the page you were stuck on.”

— Zayn Malik

I am the disease that inflicts this world.

She is the one that keeps me at bay.

If she is taken from this world.

The world will die a slow agonizing death.

I am here and I am not going anywhere

In life, and in death,

In this life, and the next,

I will stay by your side,

Till the end.

I wonder what it will take for you to love me back.

What it would take you to choose me.

But at the end of the day, This isn't something that is in my hand.

Is it love that you are only one I have ever longed for?

Is it love that you are the core of all my happy memories?

If yes,

Then whatever you do,

Whether you choose me or not,

I only ask that you let me love you

Wholeheartedly.

How do you tell someone that the reason  

       you are happy is because they texted.

It's so embarrassing how even small words from you make me happy.

I feel so helpless.

I'll drink to that. (drinks water)

I'm going to bed.

I don't want to be awake anymore.

I rather NOT think of her and miss her.

So bed it is.

You ask me If I'm okay

The answer is always no,

So long as you are away.

It's not like I love you. I just keep fantasizing

       but our futurr life  together these past weeks.

Huh... just gonna leave it here for no particular reason.

I immediately thought of her...

Even though I am usually thinking of her.

This hit me the hardest

The moment when distraction break. When we realize that we live our lives going from one task to another trying not to obsess over one thing over one being.

Then moments like this when distraction breaks and we realize we were living a lie. The person is never truly gone and distractions won't change the fact that we are in the end, all alone

The hurt. That makes us pause. That hurts something special.

I was widdling a stick to make it smooth and my cousin says...

"Oh, you're skinning a stick... Who broke your heart?"

I immediately thought of her...

Even though I'm usually thinking of her.

I wanted to tell my cousin that I've been in love with the same person and or girl for the last 7 plus years...

But I didn't.

Even though my cousin is, I think the only one in my family, other than my Mom, to know I'm not exactly straight.

Wuthering Heights

(This is a brief inspiration I had after reading Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte and after listening to Kate Bush' song.)

Oh! It's him! He's here!

Oh! It's him! He's here!

Oh! It's him! He's here!

Oh! It's him! He's here........

and so, the voices whispered near my ear...

It was a windy day, clouds were blocking the Sun's light, protecting our eyes from its lethal rays. The Rain was soon to come and English people were strangely "happy" for it to come. Grey engulfed their senses, the vain shades of color appearing frequently and the cold burning the tip of their nose, forcing their instincts to shoot out at fluttering around to find anything to use as a cover. After all this daily mundane suffering, they still loved these landscapes and the punishment that came with them.

I was hiding in the little corner of his office, shaking wildly. Trembles came out of everywhere.

He had the temper of one of Zeus' child, Ares. My former lover, Ares (yes, exactly him), was also overflowed with fury and rage, not really understanding where it came from. A God who loved battle, blood, competiton and anger. He fought until the end of it all, just like his father, that's why Zeus never preferred him as a child.

With me, he was a strange monster. You must wonder why would I think in such a way about a former lover... Well, he was not a human, nor an alien, he was a God. I'm saying this because at the beginning I didn't know what he was. When he started courting me, I hadn't noticed the immense love he had for me, which was unacceptable to me; how could a man love a woman thusly? He hadn't known me, nor had he ever seen me previously, even by mistake. I'm sure of it. Hence, my intuition told me that he was not a good sign, coming to me and confessing such a profound love. "And who do you think you are, behaving to such a degree without any further motivation?"

The strangest part was that he didn't even manage to show me his family, that enormous family of his, that he was so eager to introduce me to. But, I saw his mother in my dreams. Hera. That woman. That Goddess- The mother in law I couldn't be able to have.

She was caressing my hair and cheeks while fondly looking at me as if she created me with her own hands. Perhaps, she did. We could never know.

Hera was speaking to me, in a language I understood at that moment but once I woke up, I couldn't seem to remember a thing.

What happened next made me freeze to death, literally. She moved her hand, with the intention to caress my belly. I had no idea what she was trying to do at that time. While doing so, she raised her head, looking at me and smiling once again, in such a fondly way that even in real life I felt the tears starting to shed from my eyes. That explains the wet eyes and pillow I had once I woke up.

I woke up. Ares was by my side, sleeping soundly. I was shaking. Trembles were fluttering their way up my body. Ares, still deep in his sleep, he raised his arm up, gripped my hip and moved me to the inside of his hairy chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around me, he scooted his head in my neck and sighed with a warm breath making me shudder under him.

I'm a cold little woman who needs heat coming out of her "husbands" body, words and eyes.

It was all a sign, to tell me that something was going on.

On 2 June, a Sunday, he left and never came back. Where to go, I don't know. But my soul and energy reeked of him still, my inner witch, that was hidden in the profounds of the universe, searched for him like a desperate bitch.

He left on my birthday.

And I loved him wholly, even if he was a monster.

He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!

He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!

He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!

He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!

and so, the voices started once again...

Mars was his name. The man that came in my house and bribed me under his own fate.

Now I tremble wholly and my body needs my "husbands" heat. Where will I find it?

He comes to me. Every step he takes, I feel even colder than before. My body freezing, but my soul doesn't seem to shut up.

He is now so close to me that he could hear my heart beating.

"Xena, my love..." he whispers so softly that even I am bewildered at how I managed to hear it.

That name. "No. Don't say that name." he can't. How did he? He should be dead now. No human or other specie can ever utter that name.

"Xena... it's me. Look at me, please." he softly utters my name again.

He isn't dead. Why? How?

Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!

Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!

Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!

Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!

I shake my head wildly. Why are they not shutting up? Why can you not understand that he left us? my voice echoes in my head silencing them. For now, because they started once again.

I look up. There he is. My Ares.

"Xena, it's me, Ares." he calls.

The voices were silent. His voice was exactly Ares' voice. But how-

"You aren't! Mars how? What are you- what are you trying to do?" my voice trembles from the cold I felt. He looked like my Ares and he was as tall as him. The unique height that only my husband had.

It can't be true.

"Xena... think about it. Why would someone be named Mars?" he questioned me, inviting me to think.

Mars. In Latin for the God of war, Ares. The one and only deity that had made such an imponent famous story throughout the archaic Rome.

While trembling from the cold, I raise my hands and caress my freezing cheeks; he managed to call me by my name without dying. He has the same features and physic as him. The name is exactly the same as his but in a different language.

So, it's truly him.

I remove my hands away from my face and I raise my head up, looking towards him. Tears come out of my eyes, flooding my entire sight.

"Ares?" I say in a meek voice, which I doubt he would hear if he'd have a normal hearing.

He just nods his head, "Xena. It's me, Ares. I've come home." he says whispering.

"Ares! It's you! You're here!" I call for him while tremendously shaking like a leaf.

He comes extremely close to me, grips me at the wrists and gets me up from my seated position, engulfing me in his arms.

His heat consumes me, making me feel whole again. My body and senses burn, finally having my lover back.

Fire eruptes from my sides, unleashing the beast I had been hiding for decades. My true self was with him now.

He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!

He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!

He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!

He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!

and so, the voices resided in the profounds of Goddess' Xena.

This was the extraordinary love story of Ares and Xena.

K.M.

Secret.

it is time for me to open up with you. Seriously.

I’m destroyed, fully. I know that it breaks your heart, when I cry again, instead of being honest with myself; but I can’t stop. That’s so much more to my soul that you haven’t seen yet, and I’m hating myself because I haven’t even tried showing it to you.

I wanna be with you, in a way that you will never understand; I was brought up by two morally and emotionally diverse parents: one was too affectionate and oblivious to the world, and the other one was too cold and overprotective, so both of them never realised how toxic it became.

And you do it so well. You’re so understanding. You’re there for me. You’re my other half. That part which I’ve been missing for a lot of time. You stare at me and to me, that, that is the sun. The sun looking at me, admiring me but never blinding my eyes or burning my skin. Because you know exactly what I need.

You’re the moon to my inner stars. You complete me entirely.

And there’s a whole lot of baggage that you can’t see because i’ve been hiding it to you. Will I ever feel the need to show you where I’m hurting?

I know you hear me when I cry. It hurts you. But I can’t stop.

If you were anybody else, you’d leave me in my own torment. But, you're not and I don't know idf that makes me feel any better.

It breaks your heart. Leaving me.

So why are you leaving me?

Sometimes, girls just wanna have fun…

Picking at the flowers in her backyard, she softly hums with herself. Behind her there’s him, hiding in her shadow. This has been going on for years. And she refuses to acknowledge him.

Does she even know that he is there?

I can’t tell you, not now at least.

She plucks as many petals off her roses as possible. Her intention was to use them for an important spell: a love spell.

She had freed her long brownish wavy hair off the braid she had done the prior night, on the full moon. In fact, this morning, she woke up determined; she stretched her body as usual, ate her breakfast, read her grimoire while petting her sweet cat’s head and searching for the right spell of the day. Putting on a soft pinkish dress might I say: in a very mischievous way, she got out on her garden. And began plotting her plan.

He was intently watching her every move. He was waiting for her to finally notice him, not knowing that she was very much aware of his presence and his intentions towards her and for that, she was precisely doing a spell to make him vulnerable to her. He was entirely oblivious to what was going to happen. Poor Ares… he was going to fall right in her trap…

Getting all the ingredients, she stays in front of the mirror and starts enchanting…

She turns her head to the side and stares at a corner of the room. “Ares.” she lightly whispers.

He hears his name coming out of her mouth and unknowingly comes out of his hiding spot. “Angel…” he mutters in response.

She sweetly smiles at him and softly says “I missed you, Ares.”

His eyes widened and he sighs “I missed you, my Queen.”

She slowly gets up from her chair and goes near to his chest. She wraps her arms around his neck and sweetly looks at him directly in his eyes.

He looks down at her and hesitantly raises his hands to her hips. And softly sighs.

He was as enchanted as she was with him.

Fairly enough, this is what happens between a sweet witch and a God when they’re in love.

I’m your rose.

It hurts me to admit that I miss you. I miss your hands resting on my hips and you looking down at me. I want to touch you, your broad shoulders and your big arms. I love you towering over me and staring at me as if I am a deer caught in the forest and you are the big bulky bear hunting down his prey.

I hate to start a letter this desperate for you. But you HAVE to know that I miss you Ares. You are my salvation.

I know that I am weak, physically. So I need my protector. I need you. You can’t let go of this responsibility, it’s what you signed up for willingly. And now? I oblige you to kneel down and love me like a famished wolf. The wolf that finally found his lovely sheep. The sweetest and prettiest woman on Earth.

I need you to love me, to show it to me. Caress my skin and kiss my freckles all over my body, count them if you dare. I want you to prey for the sun you’ve surrendered to, that is my body and my soul. You know that I was going to be the end of your world. And you crave me more than before.

Now come to me, settle your way to my heart. Come back to me and cherish the magnificent aura that we create once we’re back together.

My love please give me your love and everything. I need you. Now.

“Attracting a tempest”

Soft lips caressing my skin.

Italy’s heat embracing my senses, meanwhile you discover my body’s riddles.

Why are you so infatuated with my skin?

Perhaps, you could be a cannibal.

Never-mind, you’re too vegetarian for that.

Nonetheless, you don’t believe in religion. And you still worship me as if I was reading the Testament to you.

Stay on your knees.

Crawl to me.

Start praying.

Repeat after me.

Kiss your way to my lips. And shatter my heart.

Can we call this infatuation of yours Love?

Is it love?

Or is it just hunger?

You tell me.

Sirop de Fraise

pur sucre

Oh, fraise. You make me feel unsteady with your saccharine juice.

And, why so? I haven't the faintest idea.

It is particularly strange to think that I might be attached to a red fruit. A tiny one, at that.

Fraise, strawberry, is my God. It crafts a welcoming juice into my mouth's sensitive parts. I feel its nectar flowing in my lips, tongue and palate. It graciously stains my lips, leaving behind a natural reddish color and finally making me more esthetically appealing to men's eyes.

Fraise, fragola, brings me to paradise. While the essence floods down my esophagus, my cheeks burn. Try guessing where my mind went to? I couldn't tell you.

Fraise, fresa, la reina de las frutas. Why do they call her that? In its composition, it is the only fruit in the world that has the seeds on the outside. And in addition, its intense fragrance and sweet taste make it irresistible. So, remember that you are savoring the queen of fruits. Does this make you a queen too? Well, it depends. Do you have seeds on the outside? My man used to have freckels for seeds. He had them everywhere. Even in his adam's apple.

Fragum, fragaria, Fragaria. Wild strawberries grew in the forests of France and Italy during ancient Roman times. They used to believe that the "fraga" were special fruit that had medicinal properties and used them to heal wounds or to make spells.

Erdbeere, strawberry, the first fruit to ripen in spring, making them a delightful harbinger of warmer days. My man, who loved munching on some strawberries, smelled of their fragrance. And he augmented my fertility. I was devoted to his seeds and sperm. It would surge in my insides, producing a new feeling in my head. We had unique offsprings. They were all made of love and strawberries. We took care of them and brought them up, nurtured them to be as lavish and eager as strawberries.

Be careful about the origins of your strawberries. Check out their provenience, because in sylvis proveniunt fungi, fraga, myrtilli et cetera.

Placentne tibi fraga?