The other way around

I’m sorry but I’m not that girl.

Or at least I’m trying my best not be that girl—

Who’s going to sit around and wait for grand gestures that will sweep me off my feet. That girl who’s going to get flattered with the words or phrases you coined to touch that chamber beneath her bosom. That girl who’s going to spend all day walking to and fro, thinking what’s the best gift she could hand you on your birthday or on Christmas day. That girl who’s going to share her whereabouts with her family or with her friends (not unless she’s too drunk and too lonely and she just need someone to talk to via SMS). That girl who will worry if she’s the reason behind that particular fondness of a certain song, which lyrics clearly speak about the story that you’re sharing for the past weeks. That girl who wants to spend her spare hours near your workplace, so you can drop by to grab a drink with her after those exhausting hours you spent working for things that don’t really work out for you.

I can’t read you and I can feel that you can’t read me, too.

Because I am the girl who’s going to be a walking confusion or perhaps an interesting mess who you would miss when you are becoming that girl who’s going to sit around and wait for grand gestures that will sweep you off your feet; that girl who’s going to get flattered with the words or phrases she coined to touch that chamber beneath your bosom…

Yes, that girl who you sometimes wish her to be.

i like my body when it is with your

i like my body when it is with your 
body. It is so quite new a thing. 
Muscles better and nerves more. 
i like your body. i like what it does, 
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine 
of your body and its bones, and the trembling 
-firm-smooth ness and which i will 
again and again and again 
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you, 
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz 
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes 
over parting flesh ... And eyes big love-crumbs, 

and possibly i like the thrill 

of under me you so quite new.


-- E. E. Cummings

Shattered glasses

Watch me drown myself in tears and beer. This is how it is going to be for the few hours, days—

Or maybe months.

I will tirelessly listen to the most painful stories, sugarcoated lies and crafted truth.

I will determinedly figure out the details in between.

I will dauntlessly face the pain that wounds and bruises can bring.

Fuck you.

I fought. I tried to keep myself away from better things because I love you.

But who am I to blame you?

I chose this. I chose to walk away. I chose to breathe in wider spaces. I chose to discover more of myself…

Only to discover the greater pain.