10 seconds

1)Stomach knots. Eyes lift. Stomach knots.
2)Breathing stops. Blood rushes. World stops.
3)It's just you. Blood rushes. Skin tingles. Stomach knots.
4)World stops. Your smile. Should I say hi. Move.
5)Stomach knots. Go say hi. Feet rooted. World stops
6)Breathing stops. Eyes fixated. Lost my voice. It's just you.
7)Don't walk away. Go say hi. Feet rooted. Stupid girl.
8)Don't go. Look at me. Stomach knots. Breathing stops. It's just you.
9)Go you silly girl. Breathing stops. Skin tingles. Face hot. Eyes with tears.
10)He's gone. Breathing stops. Cheeks damp. Skin tingles. Chest hurts. World spins again.

Life as it is

Lollipops turn into cigarettes. The innocent ones turn into sluts.

Homework goes in the trash. Mobile phones are being used in class.

Detention becomes suspension. Soda becomes vodka.

Bikes become cars. Kisses turn into sex.

Remember when getting high meant swinging on the playground?

When protection meant wearing a helmet?

When the worst things you could get from boys were cooties?

Dad’s shoulders were the highest place on earth and Mom was your hero?

Your worst enemies were your siblings. Race issues were about who ran the fastest.

War was only a board game. And the only drug you knew was cough medicine.

The most pain you felt was when you skinned your knees, and goodbyes only meant until tomorrow?

And we couldn’t wait to grow up?

Author Unknown
sheWOLF.

it's a love story

love story: romeo's perspective! 

peace out girlscout, rawr!

I Packed a Suitcase Full of Dust

I packed a suitcase
I put dust in it.
And then more dust.
I packed bits and pieces
Of what was still living.

I packed a suitcase,
A heart howled inside it.
A face stared up from it,
Its tongue wagging in the dust.

With each passing second
The complaints it made
Seemed more obsolete.
I packed a suitcase full of dust.

I went outside.
I was afraid people woul.d stop me and ask
Why I was travelling about with dust.

There seemed nowhere to go
But to another place of dust.
I do not want dust.
My blood is slow and full of dust.
And your kiss is dust.

I do not want dust.
Your breath has changed
Pollen into dust.
I do not want dust.

Now when you speak it is simply to speak of dust.
And what was once love
Flops about in that dust.
I do not want dust.

Swearing fidelity to all
That is clean and free of dust,
I pack a suitcase full of dust.

- Brian Patten

go cry about it why don't you?

i'm in love with a fairytale, even though it hurts

Cinderella walked on broken glass, 
Sleeping Beauty let a whole lifetime pass; 
Belle fell in love with a hideous beast, 
Jasmine married a common thief; 
Ariel walked on land for love and life, 
Snow White barely escaped a knife; 
It was all about blood, sweat, and tears, 
Because love means facing your biggest fears.

peace out girlscout, rawr!

Love, like this

Take it off. But do it slowly. Be cheeky, be sexy…feel, tease, look deep into those eyes. Tantalize. Torture.

First She appears, like a newborn, wrapped in a bathrobe.

The momentary fluff. The momentary innocence. The momentary wash of excitement.

You sit in your armchair. Motionless. Eyes tracing the beautiful contours. You are enraptured.

It leaves you paralyzed. It takes your whole attention, your whole self. Just for that moment, which you think would last.

She advances. Her steps carefully calculated. You watched hard as her silky calves peek from beneath the robes.

Everything is beautiful. Even the smallest, most insignificant thing makes a whole lot of difference.

She stands, legs apart, at a distance close enough but yet you cannot touch. The belt loosens. From her shoulders, the white wash of innocence slips.

The lofty, the unreachable always seem more enticing, more attractive.

Clad in red, She brushes her smooth skin against yours. Your heart races. Warm body against you, soft, gentle but firm, reassuring. Your heart races.

When obtained, we grow excited. We crave more. We don’t want it to stop.

She guides you - unraveling the forbidden, the secret. You dive in for some passion. She smirks and leaves you, at a distance close enough but yet you cannot touch.

It drags you in, and leaves you hanging. Then pushes you away, still leaving you, hung, tighter, higher.

Bare bodied, You take her. Your breaths deep, heavy. Together. She moans and arches her back in utter sensuality. Your eyes close, eyelids flutter. You bite the corner of your lip. Sated.

Somehow there is pleasure in the pain. The highs of the lows keeps it buoyant. The thrill. The need. The desire. The plateau.

She digs her nails into your back as you enjoyed her - warm and moist. The marks are left. Traces of blood. You still take it in.

We don’t feel the pain. Pleasure overrides it. We overrate pleasure so as to cover for why we hurt.

You lay there beside her, watching. Just watching. Close enough.

Then we realise when it’s all over. When the innocence, icing-on-top-of-the-cake melt away, we can only lay beside Her and watch Her leave.

Like a cold breeze She lingers. Your skin still tingles. Traces. But you lay there, still. Let the moment wash over. But taking in enough to let it live in you.

Love, like this.