Seepage of memories flow from my tongue like silk and wine.
Memories of split lips from wanting...wanting..
Memories of secret places and pussy's licked.
clamoring, never ending streams of film in my head...
fuck me...fuck me...only me...I want you to fuck me.
Tell me...whisper your pain, your lust..
I am rage...I am passion...I want to ripe you apart...
Anger seethes where love doesn't live anymore.
breath in and out, calm the beast, calm the yesterday of thoughts,
of tears of lust and regret.
Memories that flashback to you, the mirror of you, the last of you.

Just for her.

I am stronger now.
With a smile of irony on my lips,
I am now plagued by pain in my limbs as my heart becomes lighter.
Is this penance for a life filled with selfishness and indulgence?
Can not let thoughts of darkness cloud my light.
Nor allow regret poison my new found freedom.

I still read her though. Can't help myself. Such a glorious writer.
I wish she wrote more.
There is a spot in my heart that is evil. That is smug and happy that she is not.
We tortured each other with our prose. Still do I think.

It will never be over. Such a confusing flow of energy. An invisible cord
attached to us forever. There is no romance in that.

She never believed to this day, that I wanted her, that I loved her with all that I am.
Even in the dysfunction of our relationship, my blood pumped loudly for her.

My memory....my regret....every day there is a moment just for her.