I don't want you but maybe my poetry does !

I wonder if I allow those I love to hurt me,
in order to feel the sweet sting of pain.
A masochist trading love for inspiration;
buried beneath concrete secrets, breathing in lust and regret -
the beautiful misery that still bleeds through the cracks.

My love, do you share in my madness?
Are we not all sleeping with insanity and having elicit affairs with insomnia?

I do not need the world to know my name, for it is already
inked into the flesh of those still searching for my heart.
O how naive they are! They do not know that they will
never find it ..

Dear lovers,
Kiss me with your indifference, bite me with your lies;
and with a glacial silence that signals my delicious damnation, 
carve another scar into my soul !

0 love for me ..:

Behind the curtain..

My photo
I believe that it's the ordinary that is so distinguished. I am only an amateur who sees the mundane with a twist. Goes around putting titles on self-perceived moments as life goes on by...
 

Masquerades..

“I can read women. But god damn you woman, you’re all over the place. If I could read you I’d be god” -David Flecha

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I believe that it's the ordinary that is so distinguished. I am only an amateur who sees the mundane with a twist. Goes around putting titles on self-perceived moments as life goes on by...