Tag Archives: feelings

Thinking 

Thinking about those who say I love you,

But don’t mean it.

Thinking about those who don’t say I love you,

But really love.

What is going on inside that heart of yours?
What is going on in that mind of yours?

You cooked for me, we watched a movie, we cuddled, drank wine and had sex. For goodness sake we had ice cream!
And then you turned colder than the iceberg that sank the Titanic.

I understand and respect that bachelor life that you can’t stop talking about,
I wonder who you are trying to convince? You or me?
What I don’t understand is what you do when it comes to me.

Now you’re hot and now you’re cold,
Now you are solicitous and kind, and now you are distant and so far away.

As my advice, you should have sex with someone who doesn’t care,
Who doesn’t care about you and then, they won’t get hurt.
As my advice, you should have sex with someone for whom you care,
Someone you care about and then, you won’t hurt them.

Powerless

I walk through the darkness of my own feelings, guided by the hand of a man who . . . a man whom I don’t know. This realization comes slightly as a surprise, I don’t know him and our closeness has always been  . . . fragile.
I am not in love, I am not in love, I am not in love.
A mantra, my mantra.
Lost, confused, powerless. What can I do to regain my power

When

  • When you remain silent after I ask you a question which requires an answer.
  • When you expect me to bring wine to your house every time I come over.
  • When you don’t show me respect.
  • When you make fun of me, because by your own admission makes you feel big.
  • When you don’t say proper good buy.
  • When you feel confused and helpless and say that I am insecure.
  • When your fear prevents your emotional growth.
  • When you fear my emotional intelligence.
  • When I allowed you in my life.

Without a start

I feel the change on you, I feel it now and I felt it then.
I feel the change in me too. The change . . . Different in me than in you, more dangerous in me than in you, more clear in me, to me.
I know where this change leads, I know where it will take me, but I don’t want to go there.
The path that leads me there goes through you, through you I want to go, with you I want to be, but where the path ends. . .
I know where it ends, it’s not an end it’s just a stop. A stop to the journey, but there is no journey since I agreed there wouldn’t be. Nonetheless I have traveled, but I remain in the same place, but I am not.
How it is that . . . ? There’s no journey, there’s no path just the end to it all.
Again and again what remains it’s the journey’s end. The end without a start, the end without a path, the end and nothing else but the end without a start.