Sunday, November 25, 2007
vladimir
Dear heart,
I don't anything about you except your name, your occupation, our mutual friends, and where you live.
I don't know you favorite song or what kind of songs you like except for that Flogging Molly cd you were playing in your room. I don’t know what movies interest you but I only know of certain movies that you own because you had them readily strewn about on your bedroom floor. I also figured out that you like tomatoes but you don’t eat pork. I just have no clue as to what is your favorite food or what dish makes you gag at the sound or smell of it. I don’t know your stands on abortion or immigration but I know that you don't mind kissing me when I have onion breath or having me under your arm all night long. From what I can tell, you like to cuddle and kiss me as often as you can. I just don’t know if it’s just me or if you do that to all the girls. I don’t know your secrets or your insecurities but I know you have rough hands that your embarrassed of. Just to let you know, I love how they feel against my tender face or my soft skin because they remind me of how tough you are and how you don’t take crap from anyone.
I don’t even know what you’re doing half the time or what you’re thinking when you sit there quietly, but I know that you like to check in with me to tell me what you’re doing and you always seem to call right when I start to think of you. I also know that when I miss your call, you like to leave me messages even if it’s just calling to say hello. I don’t know what childhood story goes with each scar on your body but I know how soft your body is against mine and how rough you can handle me but in the way that rocks my world. I don’t know how many girls you’ve melted with your kiss but I know how you can kiss with your whole tongue in my mouth which is when I pull away, but you draw me back in with those lips...
I don't know what you've been through in your past or what kind of girls you fall for but I know that you love carrying me everywhere with my legs wrapped around your waist while making out with me. I don't know if you'd treat me right or if you'd end up being someone I’d want to forget but I know you're not embarrassed to talk about me to your friends or tell people that you are with me doing something as if they already knew who I was. I don't know if you'd lie to me but I do know that you lied about your car being stolen because you're too embarrassed to admit that you crashed it and did a hit and run while you were drunk. I don’t know how many girls have felt you inside of them but I know you like to shower after we make passionate love to each other.
But I don't even know if you are straight or a closet homosexual because I can't understand how a straight man can know everyone at a gay bar and dance with gay men in his underwear. I also know if a guy even hints at that idea, they would be bloody mess in a minute. I don’t know how long this not knowing will go on but I do know that I will stick around even if your relatives ask me prying questions that I secretly love answering. I’m still hoping that one day when they ask, I can say, “Yes, I’m his girlfriend.”
I don't anything about you except your name, your occupation, our mutual friends, and where you live.
I don't know you favorite song or what kind of songs you like except for that Flogging Molly cd you were playing in your room. I don’t know what movies interest you but I only know of certain movies that you own because you had them readily strewn about on your bedroom floor. I also figured out that you like tomatoes but you don’t eat pork. I just have no clue as to what is your favorite food or what dish makes you gag at the sound or smell of it. I don’t know your stands on abortion or immigration but I know that you don't mind kissing me when I have onion breath or having me under your arm all night long. From what I can tell, you like to cuddle and kiss me as often as you can. I just don’t know if it’s just me or if you do that to all the girls. I don’t know your secrets or your insecurities but I know you have rough hands that your embarrassed of. Just to let you know, I love how they feel against my tender face or my soft skin because they remind me of how tough you are and how you don’t take crap from anyone.
I don’t even know what you’re doing half the time or what you’re thinking when you sit there quietly, but I know that you like to check in with me to tell me what you’re doing and you always seem to call right when I start to think of you. I also know that when I miss your call, you like to leave me messages even if it’s just calling to say hello. I don’t know what childhood story goes with each scar on your body but I know how soft your body is against mine and how rough you can handle me but in the way that rocks my world. I don’t know how many girls you’ve melted with your kiss but I know how you can kiss with your whole tongue in my mouth which is when I pull away, but you draw me back in with those lips...
I don't know what you've been through in your past or what kind of girls you fall for but I know that you love carrying me everywhere with my legs wrapped around your waist while making out with me. I don't know if you'd treat me right or if you'd end up being someone I’d want to forget but I know you're not embarrassed to talk about me to your friends or tell people that you are with me doing something as if they already knew who I was. I don't know if you'd lie to me but I do know that you lied about your car being stolen because you're too embarrassed to admit that you crashed it and did a hit and run while you were drunk. I don’t know how many girls have felt you inside of them but I know you like to shower after we make passionate love to each other.
But I don't even know if you are straight or a closet homosexual because I can't understand how a straight man can know everyone at a gay bar and dance with gay men in his underwear. I also know if a guy even hints at that idea, they would be bloody mess in a minute. I don’t know how long this not knowing will go on but I do know that I will stick around even if your relatives ask me prying questions that I secretly love answering. I’m still hoping that one day when they ask, I can say, “Yes, I’m his girlfriend.”
this heart of mine was broken at 5:25:00 PM
0 people tried to mend this shattered heart
0 people tried to mend this shattered heart