Don't look me in the eyes I'm not quite ready for you to see that yet. Not ready for you to see the damage, the baggage, just slide it in and make us both have a jolly old time.
But you force me to look you in the eyes and I almost think you almost curious. Do you enjoy eye contact because it makes the sex more intense? Or do you enjoy it to know that there's someone as fucked up as you out there? I wish you'd stop trying though. Rip off all my layers, go on, I still won't be seen dead naked in front of the likes of you, dear. Rip off my skin, reach down my throat, throw out my heart, leave it bleeding and beating there, my soul won't be yours, it never will be, you will never see the bitter sweet soul behind these eyes you desire to know so much. Perhaps that makes you sad. I can't really tell, when you are ecstatic to be between my thighs.
God, I love this, though. Thighs burning up against each other, forehead to forehead, I could almost love you, I could almost scream that I do right now. Move my legs onto your shoulders, deeper now, deeper. Then I scream, not just because it ignites sensations I didn't know existed, but because you have given me a sense of salvation, you have numbed the pain, you have saved me for... 45 minutes? Kiss me on the forehead, call me a slut. Cute.
Flip me over by my ankles, decided a better way to fuck. My favourite way, and of course you're going to pretend you knew that. Pull on my hair, that's fine I did it nicely for you, but if you're going to be like that next time I won't god damn bother. Oh! I make myself laugh "next time", Pull me up close to you, wrap your arms around me now. It's like you are protecting me, but it is too little too late. I like the feel of your arms around me, you are warm against my cold skin, my icy veins, your blood boils next to me, I can feel your pulse. You are grabbing me so hard that I know it'll bruise, but it doesn't matter. You can mark me if you really like. No love bites though, I told you I detest them.
Grip moves up, towards my neck, while one touches me in other places. Choking me, till I think I may pass out, and yet I smile. Looking up at you with lewd eyes, you smile too. That look in your eyes, though, that's love, and my eyes are swarming with lust. Hand moves back to my boobs now and I do something ridiculously out of character, I move my head backwards to kiss you, and you kiss back with a tenderness that I don't deserve and that makes me want to bow down and worship you.
Push my head back down to the pillow, probably because you're sick to death of my face, or maybe because you know I'm sick of yours. You slap my arse anyway. Yep, that's going to bruise. Hand prints all over me. I am not something to be colonised, though you appear to think differently.
Moans muffled by the pillow, you slide out. You turn me onto my back, look at me with a menacing look in your eye. I know that look. Stuff that ridiculously large thing into my ridiculously small mouth. Shut up my moaning, satisfy your needs. I can barely breathe. I don't think you even appreciate me giving up crucial CO2 that fuels this nightmare of a life for me to suck your flavourless lollipop. Eyes smile up at you anyway, just for the hell of it. Can't ruin your most perfect night, now, can I?
Yes, thanks for that, in my eye, and in my hair. Thanks. A. Fucking. Bunch.
Wipe my face. Yeah. Thanks. Might have blinded me.
Sit down beside me. Light a cigarette. You've bought my favourite brand, you didn't forget. You don't usually smoke Marlboro Gold, I noticed that, but you must've been saving weeks for this 20 deck, deary me. Light mine for me, wink as you hand it me. Collapse onto my breasts. I play with your hair. "You're so gross and sweaty", I laugh, and you laugh too. Make some small talk, I see how nervous you are. I see right through you, dear.
Stub your cigarette out over me. Move up so our heads are level on your pillows. You look at me and tell me I'm beautiful, I smile and say thanks- it's not worth the argument.
Remember the last time I had sex. Remember who it was. Feel tears coming on. Oh God what have I done? Curl up into your chest. You ask what's wrong. I say nothing, as I play with your belly button. You play with my hair and enquire if I'm sure. I nod. They say a part of you has to be dead inside to do stuff like this. I ask you if you think that, you say no, and that it won't end at just this. I cringe inside.
It's not even that I'm using you, I like you, I like our times, I enjoy your company. There's a hole that needs filling, and no not even in that way, just when he left there was some of my soul that decided to run after him and leave me too. I don't know if you'll be the one to restore that yet.
Yet lying in your arms, after countless bruises, cuts, I think I'm even bleeding and God knows when I'll be able to sit down again. I know that you care. And I'm scared that you're going to love me. And I'm scared you love the part of me that is a dream, and when the nightmare attacks you, you'll leave like the rest. I don't think you're ready for what you're getting yourself in for. Eventually you'll slap my ass harder, you'll pull my hair almost till it comes out, you'll hate me sometimes, you'll get sick of me. Then you'll leave.
And I know I'm not ready, I'm not ready. Using sex to escape the emotions that stalk me as their prey each and everyday. At least when we fuck, there is nothing but you, your smell, your face, your hair, your sweat. Thank you for being my saviour, it's a shame you'll probably be a temporary one.
Push my head down under the covers, smile, wink, raise those immaculate eyebrows at me. Oh dear, I hate to like you. Round 2 commences.
No comments:
Post a Comment