Consumed!

I’m staring into the distance, thinking about you...
My heart is overwhelmed, thinking about you.

I feel like a little girl again, everything comes easy. I smile, I giggle.

Thinking about you.

These thoughts consume me, it’s hard to do anything else, and so I resort to pen and paper, a habit, so old….so rare. It feels comfortable now though, writing about you.

And the words come easy…

Thinking about you.

This love is massive! I’m engulfed and I’m consumed.

I want to be with you. I want you here. I can live with only you.

You’re enough for me. And then some. I don’t understand what you do. No one else makes me feel like this. It’s powerful...

Thinking about you.

I feel you on my skin, even when you’re not here. I want to sniff and embrace you.

Thinking about you.

What will become of this love? I so often ask. Will I have you? Will you have me?

Thinking about you, I rest in this uncertainty...

I warm myself with today’s blanket. I don’t know if it will be here tomorrow.

I feel warm, I feel safe, I feel happyJ Consumed by you.

The taste of your lips.

Watermelons, on a sunny day. Raindrops, in the late afternoon. Your lips taste like ice-cream, when it's blazing hot…..and like mint tea, from a steaming pot.

Your lips taste like smooth rich chocolate, melting in my mouth…your lips taste like bubble gum lollipops, or sweet lozenges….soothing, a kind that never runs out…

Your lips. They are like a warm blanket when the night has come…..your lips envelope me, your lips embrace my lips……consuming lips, incontrovertible lips. The taste of your lips lingers.
Your taste remains on my lips. Long after you have gone.

When you love someone, your first inclination is to protect them.

It's true. Many times. This crazy little thing called love is powerful, heck the one you love holds so much power. No matter what they do, when you truly love or loved……your first inclination is to protect.

Maybe sometimes we want to protect ourselves too, I mean you chose to love this person….you couldn't have been that bad a judge of character. So by standing up for them/standing by them, in a way, you stand up for yourself. Even though you may feel hurt or betrayal in the process. You know them better than did many people….you understand them just a little bit better, so thus you hold that right to protect. It's your first inclination.

Something lovey-dovey:-)

It's a beautiful thing...to be inlove:-) It makes you do and think crazy, it makes you believe you're a poet, a singer, a painter...it just makes you all artsy and I love artsy!:-)

Here is something I wrote:

"I want to taste your heartbeat,
I want to hear your lips...
I want to see your voice,
as I listen to your kiss.

I'll stroke the sound that you make with your mouth,
and caress the scent of your skin.
I'll lick the beat of your heart.
I'll show you things you have never seen."

Blush blush blush....La la la la la laaaa:-)

a piece of reading:-)

So these are completely random stories I wrote out of sheer boredom...they are unlikely to make any sense and are very ambiguous...

Life as we know it
“You’re kidding right?” Those were the first words to run through my mind and shakily tumble off my lips as I slowly took in all that was going on….this has definitely got to be some kind of stupid, dumb joke” I thought….I looked at Sheila’s face and she somehow seemed to confirm what I was dreading… “This couldn’t possibly be true…”…Suddenly full of energy I angrily moved closer to the car, got in, sat down and looked, stared at the driver. I really couldn’t read his face and the commotion outside didn’t seem to be helping. Anger, frustration, sadness seemed to slowly climb inside of me. As I listened, it was the most ridiculous thing I ever heard, I had a zillion questions….I muttered out about four….I didn’t know if I should cry or scream….my better side thought maybe I ought to feel sorry for this “driver”, maybe it wasn’t his fault and he was just as bewildered as I was….maybe it was my fault, I could have done better, I could have been more responsible.
I needed assurance from someone, anyone…that it wasn’t my fault.
I sank in my seat and I stared out the window……life had to go on.

*names changed

I sit at my desk...
I sit at my desk, I shift in my seat, I sit up again, and then I sink.
This was pointless. I yawn. I stare out the window. I exhale.

I’d gone through a somewhat similar routine several times before for one year and five months …almost a year and a half. It was even worse now because my boss and just recently had a “talk” with me….one that I would compare to that of a boarding school matron addressing a dormitory of high school students….a lecture of sorts. “Sometimes you disappear from your desk” was one of the many ‘accusations’ I felt he was throwing at me….what he actually meant was I leave my desk…sometimes, when I’m through with my pending tasks ofcorse, and I want to catch a break, some fresh air…get away for a few minutes from that dull desk, with no access to anything, other than excel sheets and the company’s systems for work. No internet. And shut in a room surrounded by one two many older, duller (much much more) frustrated human beings.
I stare out the window again and glance at the tiny digital clock at the corner of my computer screen….half an hour till lunch.
If only I could get out of here, take my lovely grey high heels outside, share a little bit of what I know…negotiate and then convince. Make a presentation, look my 'superior' in the eye as if I know it all, chuckling inside because I know I really don’t. Feel some nerves, feel some excitement, maybe even a sense of accomplishment. Get congratulated. A firm handshake…..anything!

A quarter an hour till lunch.