An endless, sadomasochism pattern;
The attraction for pleasure for my body
And pain for my soul,
In my scented silk, drenched in our aftermath…
I sit by the window in my boudoir,
Reminiscing, tracking the endless pattern;
When betrayal becomes the trend of the season,
The heart gets seasoned in doubt,
And the mind cultivates lingering doubt,
Delicious species masked in shades
My heart flutters in worry
Is he an addition to the pattern?
Casting a silhouette on his ungodly bizarre form,
I stare at the fair hairs rise and fall,
A beast that loves so gentle,
Fatigued from endless lovemaking,
But is it love really?
When he cups my womanhood,
Stares into my eyes, and promises forever…
How long before his grotesque form appears?
Do I speak for all women?
Do we enjoy the pain?
Pain that comes with ungodly thrusts,
And endless patterns of broken hearts
Tempted to think he may be different, but wait…
His eyes flutters open,
Those sinful hazel iris fuel my confusion
He summons with his eyes, stretches out his hands
Walking back into his arms, I fall into him, engulfed
Peaceful only for a moment for like his predecessors,
It won’t be long before he suffocates me in that hold
His hands, trace my thighs,
Invisible smokey wisps floating from the touch,
I stare at those beautiful eyes, His hazel iris
Blue, Green, brown, and him with the baby blue iris
I remember them all
A touch so gentle, a grasp so lethal…
I suppose, my doubts are from the trauma…
An endless, enjoyable pattern;
Gasping for breath from pleasure today,
Gasping for breath from pain tomorrow,
In his arms yet away from his touch
He loves me, he loves me not
Scenes and Coffee Podcast
6 thoughts on “HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT”
Today it’s the pain… Hopefully tomorrow it’s the pleasure…. Musings of the human heart 🤕
i know, right?