You're with me yet you're thinking about her perfect limbs, her synchronized lids, her vivid lips. You're stroking my hair, holding my hands, and kissing my neck yet you're aiming and even aching to burrow into and know her soul. We're adjacent, only centimeters from each other, yet you're wishing for her presence, her havoc, her divinity.
Do I (really) make you flail?
Why are you here with me?
Why are you wasting your time?
Why do you stay?
You're asleep beside me yet you're dreaming about her absolute spots, her meaningful sighs, her sinful smiles. You're telling me things, singing me songs, and writing me poems yet you're desiring and even dying to encapsulate around and save her soul. We're parallel, only minutes apart from each other, yet you're starving for her opacity, her malice, her attention.
You (really) make me ail.
Why am I here with you?
Why am I wasting my time?
Why do I stay?
No one fucking knows or cares.
Therefore, just --
Act dumb to feel numb;
act numb and feel dumb.
Author
Unknown
3 comments
I have rediscovered your blog. And I have also rediscovered how much I have forgotten to care about... stuff, after reading this post.
Anonymous
said...
April 1, 2012 at 2:44 AM
why we put up with each other, we'll never really know.
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"Hi."
You're with me yet you're thinking about her perfect limbs, her synchronized lids, her vivid lips. You're stroking my hair, holding my hands, and kissing my neck yet you're aiming and even aching to burrow into and know her soul. We're adjacent, only centimeters from each other, yet you're wishing for her presence, her havoc, her divinity.
Do I (really) make you flail?
Why are you here with me?
Why are you wasting your time?
Why do you stay?
You're asleep beside me yet you're dreaming about her absolute spots, her meaningful sighs, her sinful smiles. You're telling me things, singing me songs, and writing me poems yet you're desiring and even dying to encapsulate around and save her soul. We're parallel, only minutes apart from each other, yet you're starving for her opacity, her malice, her attention.
You (really) make me ail.
Why am I here with you?
Why am I wasting my time?
Why do I stay?
No one fucking knows or cares.
Therefore, just --
Act dumb to feel numb;
act numb and feel dumb.
Do I (really) make you flail?
Why are you here with me?
Why are you wasting your time?
Why do you stay?
You're asleep beside me yet you're dreaming about her absolute spots, her meaningful sighs, her sinful smiles. You're telling me things, singing me songs, and writing me poems yet you're desiring and even dying to encapsulate around and save her soul. We're parallel, only minutes apart from each other, yet you're starving for her opacity, her malice, her attention.
You (really) make me ail.
Why am I here with you?
Why am I wasting my time?
Why do I stay?
No one fucking knows or cares.
Therefore, just --
Act dumb to feel numb;
act numb and feel dumb.
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Born in the mid-80s, Erin Herøin is a marveller of non-sequitur writing, cinematic films, & analogue photography.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
I have rediscovered your blog. And I have also rediscovered how much I have forgotten to care about... stuff, after reading this post.
ReplyDeletewhy we put up with each other, we'll never really know.
ReplyDeleteWHO THE HELL!
ReplyDelete