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The fault in my design.

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You never forget who’s made you and how, it just sticks with you for the entirety of your life.

And one day you figure out – you’ve only been looking for that one replacement – someone to fill in the spot he left vacant.

Is not fair to anybody, but nobody needs to know.

I was sixteen and we were.. so intoxicated with youth, kindled in the vibrancy of our neon-bathed transgressions, deafened by the music of our euphorias bursting like fireworks in the night, we were greater than life, we were infinite. The shooting stars from the suburbs firmament screaming how nothing truly matters, how nobody could reach us, how anything could harm us…

We smelled like sex, we felt like rock and we thawed on thirsty tongues like an excess of everything.

But you started playing games with me one night, just with me, only with me, because we were too fucked up and it couldn’t mean anything; we just wanted to be overthrown by our mindless impulses, raw like the concrete Capital that brought us brazen, be a poem Chinaski would have written himself.

“We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that death will tremble to take us.”

It was just how your breath poured on the nape of my neck

how your lips teased my earlobe feathered

the way you whispered hot and intimate

something cold and shallow.

How you gave leeway to our secret fantasies with little consequence to follow us home.

You left an echo on my skin, made the hazy world pause in a spun that transfixed me trembled on the waver of your mouth, you taught me all I know about lust in a brush-stroke of murmured breath — subtly letting me know.. how you’ve decided to spoil me, how you were going to fuck me, and there was nothing I could do.

I was pissed off at you, because everything I did afterwards was a vain attempt to discredit you from the crux of my gut. Prove you wrong.

But I was wrong and you were right – and somehow.. I loved you as much as I hated you for it – for driving me mad, for knowing me better, for being able to see that people like me doesn’t know how to be loved, that we don’t want to be loved, that we just want to be destroyed in the minefield of our passions. And it was fun to play-pretend we didn’t care, it was fun to say we didn’t want it, it was fun to chase each other off into exhaustion and heady pants that had the sound of disaffection, that felt like carnage and tasted coppery in our mouths.

Now I think I smoke because of you.

To cheat this constant craving of something

no one else knew how to give.

2 Comments

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  1. Johnny Q. 7 years ago

    Or they will have to pretend like the care, because he is the king.

  2. Cersei Lannister 6 years ago

    THIS! Is amazing.

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