Too Fast

Traveling at the speed of light through the dark, humid night.

Mind poisoned with lustrous thoughts of his dark eyes, full, sinister lips and strong hands.

Driving too fast, feeling the surge of the adrenaline rush through the bloodstream.

Music pouring out of the speakers, bass rocking the leather seats and the smell of fast food waltzing through the interior of the car.

The distance between the two lovers needs to be bridged.

Lust settles upon the beating heart like a satin sheet and urgency creeps into the veins like poison.

Brimmed with emotions, the soft curves of her body crave for his hard touch.

Fireworks explode in the back of the mind, every sliver of innocence is shed and a wave of desire ripples through the darkness as the gap between the two lovers is closed.

Strange, foreign thoughts drift through the mind – white picket fences, freshly-cut lawns, homes in the suburbs and —

The intimacy is frighting.

Calm the nerves, cool the jets — slink out of the bed and melt into the pitch-black night again.

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Too Fast

A Purple Dream

Streaks of gold bid an intimate farewell to the cotton-candy clouds. The fiery sun gracefully sank behind the green hills and stained the sky above with a soft, copper glow. The remaining traces of light flickered through the dense trees and evaporated like spilled champagne.

A young woman kicked off her strappy heels, grabbed a fistful of her long, tulle skirt and made her way barefoot across the sea of emerald-green grass.

With a pensive expression on her face, she hummed a familiar tune; a tune she fell in love with as a child, and slowly walked towards a lonely pergola.

It stood amidst the evergreen field.

Lush strands of Wisteria cascaded down from its wooden ceiling while its roots snaked down the pillars and dove deep into the ground below.

Underneath the sea of fuchsia, lavender and white flowers hung an old, wooden swing.

The young woman carefully sat on it.

Her long fingers wrapped around the ropes and with a light kick of her foot, she pushed off the ground and swung back. Then forward, and then back again.

Memories of childhood waltzed through her mind, and with every high swing she had forgotten her worries.

Suddenly, a young man appeared on the horizon.

The sight of his face sparked a sweet, cashmere-soft feeling in her heart. Even though the evening was warm and inviting, a ripple of shivers ran down her spine. Her insides twisted into a cherry-knot at the thought of them being alone, at last.

He walked inside the pergola and with him brought a dark, starry night.

The darkness, however, was speared with hundreds of fireflies. They fluttered above the blanket of green grass and illuminated the pergola, and those inside of it.

He quietly stood by one of the pillars, with a slow, mischievous smile on his lips, and his hands thrust into the pockets of his meticulously pressed slacks, and watched her swing back and forth.

Their stares were aligned and their eyes burned with desire, but neither one spoke nor found the strength to close the intimate distance between their bodies.

The two lovers remained apart, yet their hearts were as one.

A Purple Dream

The Beginning of a Sinister Love Affair


You are not Prince Charming.

Your heart is the shade of charcoal, and it is filled with hatred against the world that has never taken the time to recognize the ingenious thoughts inside of your sinister mind.

No, not sinister – your brilliant mind.

Once upon a time, under a starry night, our lips touched for the first time and the poison you harbored in your black, little heart infested mine.

Slowly and quietly, I have fallen in love with the Dark Knight.

He has good intentions, even though he is riddled with insecurities, pain and sorrow. He is not perfect – in fact, he is ugly and far from the picture perfect guys that the modern society fantasizes about.

He fears intimacy.

Past love affairs have left him vulnerable, cold and guarded. He fears unknown – especially if it’s in a form of a fiercely independent woman.

But, whenever our gazes align, I can smell the lustful thoughts that brew in his head.

He is intrigued by the cloak of mystery I wear and although he cannot decipher the nonchalance in the tone of my voice, he tries. To him, a puzzle needs to be solved and a riddle needs be answered; uncertainty is not an option.

And, although he fears love, he will have to learn to accept it.

For the Dark Knight needs the Queen of Hearts.

It is simply inevitable.

The Beginning of a Sinister Love Affair

The Bittersweet Scent of Betrayal

I was hoping your lips would tell me something different – lies, that’s all you can spew.
My dear ex-friend, you spoon-fed me so many lies that my stomach is riddled with deception.
For you I cried an ocean of crystal tears,
For you I waged a war against those whom I loved with every fiber of my being.
For you I would have crossed lava barefoot, for you I would have plunged into a bottomless pit and for you I would have made a pact with Hades to rid your beautiful mind of filth.

My dear ex-friend, how could you lie to me?
Who gave you the right to reign over my heart and bring me down on my knees?
I trusted you with secrets that no one else knew.
How could you betray me? How dare you make a fool out of me?

All I wanted was honesty but instead, you fed me deceit.
Often times you would look me in the eye, smile charmingly, and lie.
Lie! Lie! Lie!
I was foolish to believe that your heart was pure and your intentions were sincere.
I was foolish to believe that you were different, modest and unique.
I placed you on a pedestal and praised your wit to the stars above.
I feigned ignorance and turned a blind eye on all of the warning signs.

I trusted you, I really did.
But, you stabbed me in the back and abandon me.

Our so-called friendship was nothing but a game to you.
You took pleasure in wreaking havoc, twisting thoughts and spreading vicious lies.
And in the end, you killed me.
Yes, you took away my life.

My dear ex-friend, let’s be honest. Here. And now.
What possessed you to torture my heart, butcher my soul and poison my mind?
What have I done to deserve such cruelty, apathy and loathing?
Did I offend you? Betray you? Cause bitter taste in your mouth?
Did my happiness disgust you? Did my sorrow bring you joy?

My dear ex-friend, I am no longer angry, upset or confused.
I learned to forgive, even though it was one of the hardest things I had to do.
The admiration, love and respect I had for you have long disappeared.
And in all honesty, I simply pity you.
Your conniving, deceitful ways are a reflection of your own bitterness, anger and hate.
You’re pathetic, simple as that.
And one day, the tables will be turned and you’ll be the pawn in your own filthy game.

My dear ex-friend, you reap what you sow.
Remember that.

The Bittersweet Scent of Betrayal

My Dear Friend,

ghost

It’s bizarre. It’s baffling. It’s absolutely magical.

Whenever our lips touch, my mind travels to foreign places: the golden beaches in Cancun, the mysterious caverns in Virginia and the lush rain forests in Peru.

Your kisses – sweet as honey and potent as red wine – devour every sliver of my heart. I close my eyes and imagine floating down a serpentine river. The sky above me is hidden behind giant trees, and streaks of gold and copper stream through their emerald-green leaves and caress me. I relish the warmth that embraces my body. It penetrates my skin, races through my veins like wild horses and pools into the tips of my toes and fingers.

Whenever our bodies touch, my mind travels to historic places: the Baroque cathedrals in Madrid, the Eiffel Tower in Paris and the Mariinsky Theater in Saint Petersburg.

Your body – strong as steel and gentle as cashmere – sets my soul on fire. I close my eyes and imagine running through a field of golden wheat. The sky above me is cornflower blue, and streaks of gold stream through the cotton-candy clouds and envelop my body in a warm embrace. I hold your hand, my gaze on the infinite journey ahead of us, and continue to run.

I want you alone, all to myself.

Whenever you’re far, my mind travels to a secret place I conjured up to escape the loneliness. I close my eyes and imagine lying on a velvety blanket of green moss. The sky above me is glistening with diamond stars and a milky-white glow seeps from the full moon and bathes our bodies in a heavenly light.

Hands interlaced, bodies lying side-by-side, I imagine us being together forever, in the darkness of my mind.

 

My Dear Friend,

Dear Audrey,

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Don’t shed another tear for him. You have been fooled from the very beginning. He was never meant to be yours. You didn’t share the same dream. It was just a figment of your silly imagination.

Love, Audrey, is a parasite that weaseled into the core of your being and clouded your judgment with lust, recklessness and obsession. It robbed your body of the heart and soul, and filled the gaping hole with emptiness.

He never loved you, my dear girl. His interest had been the soft curves of your body. His intentions were only to massacre your soft flesh, to rip your limbs apart until every sliver of your innocence bled.

Run Audrey, outrun these shameful memories – run as fast as a wild beast – do not fall prey to this powerful, suicidal feeling again. Do not let him rape your heart and penetrate your soul for the second time. Hide the pain. Hide the shame. You lost the battle, don’t try to retaliate. Accept defeat, you fool – suffocate your pride and drown your dignity – continue to live a safe existence, devoid of fairytales and happy endings.

The countless nights you’ve dedicated to his sensual desires should be repressed – burned to ashes – and replaced with pain that runs through your veins right now. The taste of venom he left on your lips should never be engraved upon your beating heart. The sinful memories of the unbridled passion he had bestowed upon your fragile body should be forgotten.

Remember the tears. Remember his deception. Protect your heart. Do not accept the poison for the second time. Do not fall in love again.

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Audrey,

It’s Complicated, Not.

A plume of white smoke filled the room as he took a long, thoughtful drag of his joint and exhaled deeply. She lounged in the wicker armchair on the balcony, cradling a glass of Pink Moscato, and her bare feet were neatly propped up against a stool as she stared at the distant lights across the dark water.

What am I doing here? She kept thinking over and over.

Her heart had been massacred a few nights ago, her body had been robbed of decency and her soul had been raped and tossed into the gutter like the gum wrapper that gets stuck to the bottom of the shoes on the streets of L.A.

He squatted in front of her; a joint pressed between his thin lips and a glass of Whiskey in his large hand. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of a body that could bend steel and the kind of a face that could make panties wet.

He was a one-night-‘em kind of a guy, and the dangerous gleam in his eyes confirmed it. He was young, wealthy and with enough connections to catapult his firm buns into the upper society. He fucked girls for breakfast, lunch and dinner – love was foreign to him.

She was heartbroken, confused, and livid.

He cupped her chin and slammed his mouth against hers. His kiss was potent, enough to get her high. He parted her lips, blew the smoke in her mouth and covered every inch of her face and neck with sloppy, urgent kisses.

She knew what he wanted, but her heart said no.

She felt ashamed; she couldn’t play the game. She was no player, and her heart was at stake. She pushed him off, disgusted with herself, snatched the purse off the counter and stormed down the hallway.

He shouted her name and awkwardly adjusted his sweat pants as he hurried after her, and grabbed her hand.

He told her she was a fool for believing in love. He tried to make her stay, even fed her lies that could have made a weaker girl cave in, but she shook off his grip and told him she pitied him. Yes, he was young and had money to spend, but he was lonely and he coped with his pain by surrounding himself with phony-ass friends, boatful of weed and the type of alcohol that cost an arm and a leg but tasted like shit.

He stiffened and told her she couldn’t have everything she wanted before he slammed the door in her face. His words stung and they left her hollow and bruised. She braved the cold night in a flimsy dress, cried on the way to her car and promised herself that despite the pain it’ll cost, she’ll search out her soul mate.

He had to be out there – somewhere across the dark water, where the sparkly lights shine brighter than diamonds.

 

It’s Complicated, Not.