Living Vacancy

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Love misc.

Submitted: October 10, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 10, 2012



Boy had lived.

If there’s something I couldn’t help myself from - it was all the life lived in your eyes. The chances you’d taken. Good or bad. The beautiful girls you’d dared to love, but more impressively; dared to leave. Gambled. Threw away. Fuckin’ terrifying to any girl following. Except exceptionally appealing to this girl.

Beautiful confused, broken boy.

Watch you tread carefully and awkwardly every second of every day. Just getting by.

Disguised in just the right fit jeans, just how i like fit shirts, just how i like fit lids, just how i dig fitted sneakers. Genius.

I wanted the challenge of handling you. Of feeling you. Of seeing if you could feel me. Beyond and above your constant haze.

I wanted to go against my very instinct and believe you. I wanted to run along side and prove your jaded ways wrong. To teach you something about affection, loyalty, and kindness.

This girl wanted to get you right. This girl wanted to get this right. This girl wanted to watch you grow from me. This little clueless girl wanted to watch you be affected by me, even if I knew where this would lead. Silly young girl thinking she could show you something new.

And I regress, I never thought I'd change you. Never dared to think I might have that capacity. I knew better if  only when it came to that. It would've been less tragic if I may have innocently thought so, though. Less masochistic.

You tarnished, hurt, horribly hurt, damaged baby. Fucked up baby I wanted to indulge in.

Simple math, fucked up would fuck me up. Clear to see. I knew you’d fuck with me. I didn’t care.

Let me in anyway.

Once in, I'd find everything battered up and bruised. Let me kiss those bruises. High off me if only for this evening. This meal. This morning. This afternoon. This movie. These 10 minutes of bad head. These 20 minutes of gratification. This text message. This minute in kiss. Kissing. Kikitos.

Still; inviting, warm. Smart enough to utter the right words.

And I wanted to believe you- so I acted like I did.

Pretty little eyes. Uncertain, but seemingly in my favor.

You would teach me something.

That I knew. That I was certain of the minute we interacted. Good or bad, you'd teach me something.

In the midst of it. Confused. No lesson learned, but still enthralled.

I just wanted to kiss you

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