Waiting For Love...

Our engagement was perfection incarnate, fit to be made into a manuscript that would easily enchant any audience. Even the dust beneath the soles of our feet were marinated with the rich serenity that filled the air in every room of the hall we booked and also in my heart.

Contented sighs escape my lips whenever I find myself seated in the back of a warm taxi. Nostalgia graces my being with its hold and I enjoy each sheltered moment.

…Well, I used to.

Now he no longer allows me to pretend that what have is as real as it used to be, laying waste to the remaining evidence of our time together - that could have been a lifetime of forever - like a stack of cards in the merciless wind.
He lowered himself onto my naked body, into my open arms, and strangled me with the coldness of his touch, the refusal of a loving gaze in the form of closed eyes, and tore from me the victory of a life that we could have shared.

He wanted a new direction that was perpendicular to mine, ensuring that we would never meet again.
He was terrible to me, but I would forgive him if he returned the part of me that was missing…

————————————————-
Creative writing exercise: Write a piece of prose or a short story using words chosen at random.
(Bold words were my random picks.)

I know that I haven’t been on in forever but I wanted to stop by and say that this is farewell for now guys…
At least until exams are over.

‘Til then you should all prepare yourselves for my heart-spamming~

As usual, you’ve been warned…

Dropped-

the way a mobile phone is
when its owner releases it mere
inches away from a close, solid
surface and so freefalls to
a possible break or end.

You

were her ‘mobile phone’ weren’t you?
Constantly cradled in the crib
of the palm of her hand, screen
stroked and poked, volume switched
from high to low, buttons pushed

Like

you were her personal remote control…
and you allowed her to watch all of
her favourite channels without
so much as an over-usage toll;
she played with you like

A

girl too young to care for her
toys would play with a doll,
bending you, almost breaking
you, straining you into
stress; you were a mess

Mobile

to her in more ways than one.
She made you vibrate and ring
with preset tones that she
had downloaded, hard-coded in
your bones… Now she wants another

Phone-

one with more functions
and features, an appealing
creature who will replace
you who lays flat, broken and
battered on her living room floor.

Sometimes, when I lie
in bed at night,
I imagine that the firm
mattress beneath
me is your lean frame,
that the pillow
under my head is the
crook of your
neck, and that the quilt
is your arms
wrapping me in a snug
embrace,
keeping me warm as the
wind whispers your name.

The clench between my thighs
Brought about by the look in your eyes
Grows stronger with each step in your stride
That brings you closer to me,
‘Til you’re standing toe-to-toe with me,
And I can feel the heat radiating from your body.

Face to face,
Hearts racing at the same pace,
On this night - we shall occupy that same space.
I will play in your oceans,
Respecting your tide’s motion;
Soak me in love.

I will soak you in mine if you will fill me with yours…
I won’t stop until you’re begging for more
Because I want to hear your feral roar
As you pour your liquid love into me,
Hips thrusting, lips locking, glee
Expressed through our bodies rocking as we fly free.

Free to taste you with no inhibitions -
Our missions vary, making this experience legendary -
Your geyser gushing, my lips lusting
With the compulsion to catch every honey drop
From my very own honey pot.

If you venture there I won’t be able to stop
My fingers from finding your hair papa bear,
Or keep my lips from parting
And my back from arching
To better receive your tender loving care.

—————————————————————————-
Bold and italic text: Joaquin (thespokenpoet)
Just italics: Me (debzdkwfl)

It saddens me to think that
if I was a guy
we may never have been friends.

It saddens me to think that
not a single guy
has proven your prejudices wrong.

It saddens me to think that
because of the guys you’ve met or observed,
the mental suit you immediately dress
every other guy in morphs them into pricks
unworthy of a second glance.

It saddens me to think that
you may never allow yourself to experience
the love which you so beautifully write about
yet have so little faith in…

You are composed of unwritten words,
unable to form strings of letters
across a page without a medium
guided by another’s hand.

You wobble in blustery winds and
when breath skims along the surface
of your skin, making you waver, unstable,
as globs of your essence splatter upon pages.

You gleam in light like cut sapphire,
shimmering blackish-blue in the presence of
a scribe until your fate is made certain as
you, in that moment, are preserved on paper.

You are the writer’s delight, as moldable
materials are the sculptor’s wife, and they thrive
in their ability to intensify your beauty through
standard, italicised, or emboldened text.

Yet you can also be the cause of a writer’s
plight as your blackness blots out the path to
a finished piece instead of allowing
them to bring your form to light.

I fell for his lips,
Pale, unkissed, like skin without
Blessing from the sun.

I fell for the blue
Of his eyes, like the vast skies
That separate us;

Their gaze stretching for
Miles upon miles into souls,
Searching for red thread.

I fell for the way
His eyes encompass the love
He shoots from his bow,

Firing arrows with
Hearts for heads at desperate
Targets wanting love.

I fell for his curls,
I fell in love with the man
People call Cupid.

He sees you when you’re sleeping
and also when you’re weeping
because as you slumber
your eyes let loose
what demands
of the day
did not
allow
you
to.
In
the
dark
of your
room he
sits, waiting for
the rivulet of your
tears to reach the apex
of your cheeks where they are
illuminated by a streak of moonlight
that wanders in through a slit in bed
-side curtains to line dance on
your face; roaming over
the hill of your chin,
skirting past the
trench of
a corner
of your
lips,
be
-fore
disapp-
earing, with
a waltz, into the
valley beneath your
still, leaking eyes…

I have no recollection of what happened last night…

The Sandman made sure of that
When he peppered my eyes with
Weakly enchanted dust scavenged
From the corners of languid dreams.

Like a wildfire it spread, drawing
Tributaries of blood into the sclera
Of my eyes, burning with each blink
As though sandpaper lined my eyelids.

The dust pooled into my pupils, sank
Through each lens and travelled
Down optic nerves before attaching
Themselves to the neurons of my brain.

I vaguely remember voicing answers
To questions, that figments disguised
As family had asked, with slurred
Sentences that were left unfinished.

I woke up in bed, fully dressed - bar my
Shoes - with my hat on, as light from the
Bedside lamp assaulted my red-rimmed
Eyes and purged me of the spell of sleep.

I have no recollection of what happened last night…
(And I don’t even drink.)

I can’t believe that it’s been a year since I’ve been on Tumblr…
A whole year since I’ve been able to re-discover how liberating writing is for me…

I’ve come across so many different, unique, amazing individuals on here and it’s all thanks to my dear friend Jessica who managed to talk me into creating a Tumblr to relieve some stress.
I was reluctant at first… I actually deleted my first account after less than a week. (I can’t even remember the username. xP) About 5 months down the line, I came back and I am ever so glad that I did.

Inventory:
Posts: 136+ this
Followers: 242
Following/ Stalking: 299
Messages: 282
Likes: 19,056

I think a spoken word video is in order…

I believe in a love that most people think
No longer exists.
We have watched as two key practices
Toppled over the brink,
Pushed by the hands of Crass and Infidelity,
Weakened by peer-pressure and teenage pregnancy,
Outweighed by the power of money;
Love is now the widow of Chivalry yet still follows Chastity.

I believe in a love that both men
And women no longer have faith in,
The kind of love that shakes you
Right down to your core when
You realise just how vulnerable
Your heart has become, like a deer
On open-ground staring down the
Barrel of a gun, wanting to run but fear makes it unable.

I believe in a love that children of today
Only hear about in stories such as
‘Romeo and Juliet’, two souls intertwined by
The red string of fate that did not fray
In the face of opposition from malicious hearts
Nor did they stray from one another when days remained
Dark; they stayed true to the vow -
‘Until death do us part’.

Indeed, I am old-fashioned in my belief and
A dreamer in addition,
But I will continue to dream of a love that is true
Until the day arrives when that dream comes fruition.