=*=Inspired=*=

Belly is aching_
my hands_ shaking
thinking of faking through_ another conversation with you.
acting that these unwanted feelings kept suppressed  are not really true_
just a nagging figment of my, all too vivid imagination_
a hallucination of all my senses that one day appeared out of the blue_during_some random thought of you,
while feeling too nice lifted high...
or maybe a left over sensation from the very first time_
I looked you in your eyes...or let you in-between my thighs_
and continues to
linger
on_& on_ & on
denying for so long_this is going on in me
carelessly disrupting dreams, freely corrupting me
in feeling this way about he...
so_give me just one more time to try_
I don’t feel or need this_its just make believe
a misconceived fiction and not this deep
that this addiction I have is just that and not reality
it just cant be_for me
to achieve this level of emotion once more...
and from a man just as emotionally unavailable_as the one before...
young, selfish, and a bit of a whore...
2 babies and we're unsure as of now but possibly 1 more_
likes to run around never settle down loyally...unavailable!
unavailable, unaware and unable to...
make it home_
at this time so leave a massage at the tone_
keep it moving he may reach you back this lifetime...
one day...
okay I’ll swallow that line right along with my pride
and act like I haven’t heard it before_
but only because I want this...
cause while he is cause while his flaws are evident
he is still a decent man with a keen eye, beautiful and intelligent_
sexy, clean, and kind...so that makes everything else to me_irrelivent
and I cant get over the smooth way we move and operate together
so I don’t mind
the way he feels inside or the way we lay and stay on the line for hours speaking all at the same time_ everything and nothing...
and though it doesn’t move him to me it means something!
and it seems silly how he makes blow him kisses_before we hang up the line_
but I like and he doesn’t know
I miss it when he forgets sometimes...
or when he pulls away after I have said too much.
now these words might not be so poetic but its what I feel
cause unfortunately for my heart...suppressed, unarticulated emotion is inspiration for art_and here I am writing again__
cause unfortunately for my heart...silence and torture is inspiration for art_and DAMN IT I am writing again
scattered notes of paper crumbled and folded in purse, on bed & bedroom floor again
one hand holds phone to ear like a 38 revolver the other holds my pen...
and damn it I am writing again_
these things I could never say to him.
and I cant see how he cant read_the language of how my hips sway into him_
or believe the way I can be so infatuated and naive to give into him_taking me to a next level of thinking cause I want to do things with him I’ve never done
and in that I can't allow him to know how much I like it when he tells me to give him a son...
so I playfully engage in mutual harsh criticism & name calling to avoid falling and stage so falsely how I can't stand him...well enough I think he believes it too...
cause I’m not audacious enough to make him know how much I really do...
and it started out so beautiful...cause he first touched me intellectually _then sexed me
and I would do anything for him...
emotionally, mentally, or sexually_
cause that is just so damn sexy to me____
vexing me cause he just don't know_he is the only man I want...
and I linger to let my muteness haunt_
echoing perpetually...
needing to make this truth kinetic_
but then_
that just wouldn't be as poetic
silence is pain...he is my desire_
unfortunately for my heart_
I’ve been inspired