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Pleasure
You caught me in a corner of a round room
Dashing towards pleasure
The roar of your moan echoes through my ears like clanging church bells on a wedding day
Subconciously whispering me to go harder
Scratching my back with great friction
Leaving pain and claiming it love marks
As I tangled on the mountaneous flesh
The roar has become a scream
As if you want me to stop
But your body is taunting me to go deeper
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Started
Never have I experience happiness in times of lost. All my life, I believe in the existence of the binary opposition of happiness and sadness. They never coexist. You can never be "a little bit happy" or "a little bit sad". You can only be happy or sad. And as I met sadness more often in every lost, I tend to equate sadness to lost. So, you can never "lose a little" or "lose a lot". You only lose something. And the idea of lost keeps on hunting me like an undying corpse snatching my leg and cripples me to their graves. They started owning me. They started living my life. Like a mascot wearing a human skin. Trying to blend in to the crowd. They started bruising their way into my head. Manipulating every ounce of thoughts that flows in my mind. They started evolving. They started getting wiser. They started to grow bigger and stronger biceps. They started turning into depression. And with all of the lost. I have no one. They started killing, and I started dying.
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I'm Fine
I'm fine,
Even though you can't see me.
I'm fine,
Even though it hurts.
I'm fine,
Even though you love someone else.
I'm fine,
Even though I'm not.
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