Saturday, November 13, 2004

The deal. I don't know if I'll be able to fulfill it. I'll have to so that I can prove myself to you, but I suffer every single day because of it. I want to whine and shout and cry about how unfair it is, but I did ask for it and I will obey it. I won't let you down, though I've come pretty damn close already. How many days are left? I check my watch, I check the calendar and I can cross off another minute, hour, day, week. Will this deal go through till the original set date or will you extend it some to prolong my pain? While I cannot wait for the final date to arrive, some part of me deep down wants you to keep pushing me, pushing my limits, seeing how long I can withstand this for you. I want to succeed for you. I want to prove myself to you so that you will be able to see that I am worthy. If I can do this for you, what else am I willing to do for you? In time, anything.
I hear that voice and heat flows through my body. Classical conditioning, it seems to be. Dammit, I'm just like one of Pavlov's drooling dogs. I hear that voice and my attention is caught; hook, line and sinker. That voice. Knowing you're there, knowing that just maybe you'll pay some attention to me. The thrill I feel when that sound chimes in and I get some of your precious time. Time, it seems that I have too much of it without you there to fill it. And, when you do fill it, there is never enough. The words captivate me and I stare at them, absorbing them, trying to understand their meaning. That voice wraps me in comfort and permits me to feel alive. The heat has me lusting and I don't want to move away. Sometimes I have to, but I always have you in the back of my mind and I want to come right back.
The next time I see you, I want to have proven myself worthy to you, worthy of you. I will walk up to you, eyes lowered, waiting for you to make the first move. I will be unsure of what you are feeling. I will want you to take me in your arms and tell me that you love me and that I belong to you. You will probably not do that. So, instead I will want you to have me stand at a distance from you, ask me to remove all of my clothing so that I stand before you physically and emotionally naked for your eyes to see. I will want you to grab me roughly, pulling my hair back so that my head tilts up to look you in the eyes. I will then probably melt under your control. I will want you to bite my breasts, marking me as yours for days to come. These marks will be hidden from all others, known only to you and I. I will want you to caress me all over with your hands and your lips and your tongue. I will want you to name every part of my body and claim it as yours, marking it with your teeth and your saliva. I will want to feel the coolness of the air and the warmth of your body. I will want you to love me so much you hate me. I will want you to love me so much that you want to cause me pain. The pain/pleasure feeling is something I will revel in. I want you to hate me so that I can be unworthy of you. I want you to love me because of how I keep trying to prove my worth to you. It is a vicious circle that I can never win. While I push you away, I want you close to me. While I bite off your head, I want to cover it in kisses. I want you to love to hate me; I want you to hate to love me. Let me be the flower that blossoms beneath you.
I want to blossom for you. I want to succeed for you. I want to be worth it for you. Let me work my way into your life. Let me be yours.

*super cool poem of the day*
From "The Sex Lives of Vegetables" by Lorna Crozier
CARROTS
Carrots are fucking the earth.
A permanent erection, they push deeper
into the damp and dark.
All summer long they try so hard to please.
Was it good for you, was it good?

Perhaps because the earth won't answer they keep on trying.
While you stroll through the garden thinking carrot cake,
carrots and onion in beef stew, carrot pudding with caramel sauce,
they are fucking their brains out
in the hottest part of the afternoon. JeN's mind ejaculated @ 1:33 a.m. | | permalink