These words of mine are not for you,
they are for me.
To sulk in my own misery
of thoughts.
To get it off my chest
and wipe the sheet of days
white-clean again.
I’m restless.
Pacing.
Overwhelmed.
I’m longing for your words
in sounds of sadness,
tunes of low.
Oh how I loved it –
being cold.
And brutal.
And sadistic.
I found content in all of that.
Before, not now.
Today I’m over-ruled
by you.
That hint of arrogance in low-toned voice.
The pinch of sadness in those sentences that reach me.
I’m over-ruled by you,
completely.
I’m obsessed.
And yearning for your presence deep within me.
– Chatty Owl –
Keep slashing with your razor…all your lines so precise… 😉
Would you trust me with a razor around you? 😉
Explicitly 😉
I enjoy the way your word wash over me. Kinda like a soft embrace. Passionate but fleeting. In need of more
And I should indulge you in more…
Patiently waiting
at the beginning i thought i liked your sharp sarcastic irony… But now I like not less the softness of your words…
Thanks. I think I’m back to my sarcastic roots soon 😉
Gera kartais pasikalbėti su savimi, su išmintingu žmogumi taip sakant 🙂 Žinai, gali įtikinti jį tikėt bet kuo, nors kartais tas užtrunka 😉
O kas geriau patars ir palinksės galva, jei ne pats sau!