+cold caress imprints+
Sometimes you find yourself doing things that you don’t really think upon too much before you act. I think that’s the only way anyone would ever consider fucking someone they don’t really know for no apparent reason other than the fact that you know you can.
I always throw romanticism out as though it were some kind of filthy malaise that could infect my whole being. Leave the romanticism for the school girls. If you want to fuck me you’ve got to be ruthless, dirty, even violent…anything BUT nice. Cos you see…when you spend your youth working in seedy clubs, your whole perspective about life changes. You start to realize that sometimes a slap is more effective than a kiss. Or that it’s better to be sleeping with a stranger than to be sleeping with a memory. You also stop to question your actions because you acquire the mentality that everything only lasts one night.
And although it may seem that ten years later I should’ve gotten rid of that way of thinking….often I find myself falling into that cycle again. It’s far more better for you to violate me than for me to have to have to unveil my soul to you. I’d rather that you penetrate me than allowing you to try to delve into my psyche.
I don’t really need the so-called stoned affection that everyone else is in search for. No….you’ll do me a greater favor by letting your spunk flow over me. I’m in no grand search for a soulmate. Probably because I feel that I’ve found it…only I’m unable to clutch it. But the more I kiss foreign lips the more I feel that this curse of my unreachable soulmate begins to fade. Or at least it distracts me from uttering in a dreamy haze, “Goodnight my gentle prince,” to the barren spot in the bed next to me where I wish that my soulmate was resting.
I always throw romanticism out as though it were some kind of filthy malaise that could infect my whole being. Leave the romanticism for the school girls. If you want to fuck me you’ve got to be ruthless, dirty, even violent…anything BUT nice. Cos you see…when you spend your youth working in seedy clubs, your whole perspective about life changes. You start to realize that sometimes a slap is more effective than a kiss. Or that it’s better to be sleeping with a stranger than to be sleeping with a memory. You also stop to question your actions because you acquire the mentality that everything only lasts one night.
And although it may seem that ten years later I should’ve gotten rid of that way of thinking….often I find myself falling into that cycle again. It’s far more better for you to violate me than for me to have to have to unveil my soul to you. I’d rather that you penetrate me than allowing you to try to delve into my psyche.
I don’t really need the so-called stoned affection that everyone else is in search for. No….you’ll do me a greater favor by letting your spunk flow over me. I’m in no grand search for a soulmate. Probably because I feel that I’ve found it…only I’m unable to clutch it. But the more I kiss foreign lips the more I feel that this curse of my unreachable soulmate begins to fade. Or at least it distracts me from uttering in a dreamy haze, “Goodnight my gentle prince,” to the barren spot in the bed next to me where I wish that my soulmate was resting.