Thy Crimson Tears Make Me Thirst for More: part 7
This isn't a comeback, not yet. Just needed to write down something to share with you.
Nothing is more confusing and disturbing and more oppressing than mixed up emotions, feelings you can't really place to their right places. Feeling of not being good enough for something or someone. That's what these three are about. How I feel, more than in any of the earlier stories. I want to be that someone for that someone, if you see what I mean. Maybe the stories speak for themselves... [Hopefully you see behind the lust-filled lines] No high-class literature again. Dropping a line would be nice...
We're sitting on the floor, watching television, the late night movie. He's sitting closer to me than usual. My sister arrives and sits on the sofa chair. Her gaze drills to my back and I have to turn to look at her. She nods towards my friend anxiously and I shrug my shoulders. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She wishes us both a good night. I watch her back as she leaves the room, still shaking her head. I know what's in her head: me and my friend.
Blood and guts fill the television screen slowly but steadily, my gaze wanders away from the screen to my friend's lap. I can't help myself from wondering what he's like. I close my eyes. I grab his trousers, unzip them and find his boxers. He gasps and I reach my hand inside his boxers…
"Hey! Are you sleeping?" he asks as he pokes me between the ribs. I flinch and open my eyes.
"No, just got lost in my own world for a second" I answer. My cheeks are burning hot; thankfully it's too dark for him to see it.
***
I've dreamed of things I'm not supposed to dream about. I've fantasized about things that only take place in those dirty mangas. I've dreamed of doing such things with him, such that make my cheeks burn of shame. I've imagined his hands on my skin, the warmth radiating from them. I've dreamed of being a total slut, not a street girl, but just doing things to him in a way normal woman wouldn't. Or so I believe. I've let him do things to me and I've enjoyed every bit of my fantasies. I'm ashamed, but yet it feels good. He walks pass me and greets me as he always does. Dirty image flashes before my eyes. I greet him back and change couple words. My mind wanders away in the middle of his sentence. I can hardly keep myself in control, I desire him so much. I take a deep breath to finally say to him that I like him, desire him.
***
I am so torn apart. He doesn't know what's going on in my fantasies. He doesn't know what's going on in my mind. I am so torn apart. I dwell between my misery and fantasies. Maybe my fantasies dwell in misery too. He doesn't know how I feel inside. He doesn't know the ache. He doesn't know the emptiness filling me. He doesn't know how hollow I feel inside. He doesn't know he is my fantasy.
***
The last one was inspired by Diablo's Icon of Flesh. I really like the lyrics of that song.
Lyrics reminded me of this
"How can I be lost,
If I've got nowhere to go?
Search for seas of gold
How come it's got so cold?
How can I be lost?
In remembrance I relive
So how can I blame you
When it's me I can't forgive?" Unforgiven III by Metallica
Somehow Hetfield just does it, he knows how I feel inside...
Nothing is more confusing and disturbing and more oppressing than mixed up emotions, feelings you can't really place to their right places. Feeling of not being good enough for something or someone. That's what these three are about. How I feel, more than in any of the earlier stories. I want to be that someone for that someone, if you see what I mean. Maybe the stories speak for themselves... [Hopefully you see behind the lust-filled lines] No high-class literature again. Dropping a line would be nice...
We're sitting on the floor, watching television, the late night movie. He's sitting closer to me than usual. My sister arrives and sits on the sofa chair. Her gaze drills to my back and I have to turn to look at her. She nods towards my friend anxiously and I shrug my shoulders. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She wishes us both a good night. I watch her back as she leaves the room, still shaking her head. I know what's in her head: me and my friend.
Blood and guts fill the television screen slowly but steadily, my gaze wanders away from the screen to my friend's lap. I can't help myself from wondering what he's like. I close my eyes. I grab his trousers, unzip them and find his boxers. He gasps and I reach my hand inside his boxers…
"Hey! Are you sleeping?" he asks as he pokes me between the ribs. I flinch and open my eyes.
"No, just got lost in my own world for a second" I answer. My cheeks are burning hot; thankfully it's too dark for him to see it.
***
I've dreamed of things I'm not supposed to dream about. I've fantasized about things that only take place in those dirty mangas. I've dreamed of doing such things with him, such that make my cheeks burn of shame. I've imagined his hands on my skin, the warmth radiating from them. I've dreamed of being a total slut, not a street girl, but just doing things to him in a way normal woman wouldn't. Or so I believe. I've let him do things to me and I've enjoyed every bit of my fantasies. I'm ashamed, but yet it feels good. He walks pass me and greets me as he always does. Dirty image flashes before my eyes. I greet him back and change couple words. My mind wanders away in the middle of his sentence. I can hardly keep myself in control, I desire him so much. I take a deep breath to finally say to him that I like him, desire him.
***
I am so torn apart. He doesn't know what's going on in my fantasies. He doesn't know what's going on in my mind. I am so torn apart. I dwell between my misery and fantasies. Maybe my fantasies dwell in misery too. He doesn't know how I feel inside. He doesn't know the ache. He doesn't know the emptiness filling me. He doesn't know how hollow I feel inside. He doesn't know he is my fantasy.
***
The last one was inspired by Diablo's Icon of Flesh. I really like the lyrics of that song.
Lyrics reminded me of this
"How can I be lost,
If I've got nowhere to go?
Search for seas of gold
How come it's got so cold?
How can I be lost?
In remembrance I relive
So how can I blame you
When it's me I can't forgive?" Unforgiven III by Metallica
Somehow Hetfield just does it, he knows how I feel inside...