Foreign language

i can’t read about your sex
or your longing
or your cravings
i had my own
and i still have them
but mine are dark hauntings
they are decrepit phantoms

your lusts are healthy and mild
like pretty stories
like tv scripts with satisfying endings
mine are houses on fire
heat that destroys
and leaves me brittle and defenseless

when i try for what you paint
i chase sickness
i fall over suffering
because there is no end
just relentless pursuit
i could lose it all in my times of needing

i dont just want a hot moment in a story
and then easily smirk and smile about it
i want it over and over and over
and die on the floor
regretful, insatiable and addicted
to get up and fall down repeatedly, bloody, wounded and ravaged
that’s not exciting, that’s death-defying and tragically excessive

i cant read your x-rated
peruse your sexy proses
your graphic lover moments
i lived them all already
i have no words left
i used them all up

you get to enjoy your pictures
cherish the fleeting wantoness
and go back to the popcorn
and short stories
and the beautiful novels you’re creating for humanity
where sex and desire are only chapters
not the plotline

yes it’s a pity
but a taste of the flesh for some
is a sentence to torture
it’s why i hide in soft corners now
unable to blithely explore mine and others’ sexual complexity

i cant overstate
what it means to be hyper
when a lingering gaze
becomes an invitation
explosive attachment and union
depressive obsession
with only one of two people
ever knowing the story was written

i can’t read your sexy joyous
the letting it all hang out
the letting go
because i didn’t know what it meant to be free
i thought my captivity was freedom

i’m still discerning between the dream and the real feeling
i’m still figuring out that i can’t hold all the toys and keep blindly playing
i’m turning inwards to understand what still needs mending
i’m still learning about the worst things that can happen if i don’t say no

so please forgive my lack of enthusiasm
my failure to appreciate
your passionate encounters
but i’m trying to bring life back to a soul that was nearly killed by too much “passionate” encountering


One thought on “Foreign language

  1. I can relate to this. Not exactly all of it, but parts of it. There were times when I was feeling insatiable and reckless and reading about other’s encounters only made it worse for me. Either I’d want what they had or I’d compare and feel horrible about my impulsive decisions. I’m glad you are doing what you need to do for yourself. Please take care. Sending you my love.

    Liked by 1 person

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