Stay

I sipped on a Daiquiri and listened to him joke with his friends. They were haughty – branded from head-to-toe in designer clothes, raced around the streets of L.A. in 7-series beamers and trophied silicone bimbos.

He was wasted, his speech was slurring, and his advances were getting bolder.

I peeled his sweaty palm off my bare knee, and stood up.

He stopped me. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” I lied.

Instead, I snuck out of the bar and strolled down the Hollywood Blvd. The air was warm and thick, polluted with pungent scents of weed, cigarettes and greasy food.

My nose bleeding heels walked across the stars, and I dodged the lecherous stares my black, skintight dress earned from the guys that guzzled beer and smoked cigarettes in the nearby bars, and searched for a drunken conquest to take home.

I ignored the salacious invitations, and frowned at the loud whistles.

The man I ditched at the bar was a rebound. He was not you. He was just an aftermath of your nonchalance.

You were right.

I lost myself amidst the bright lights, phony glamour life and pretentious prima donnas. I stabbed you in the back by craving the spotlight – but all I ever wanted was your attention. Not sure where I went wrong.

You got angry; called me an attention whore and marched out of my life.

But, she’s not me.

You blocked my number – was that really necessary? Yet, my name is still on your lips. You still ask about me. If you don’t give a damn anymore then why bother wondering if I’m still alive or dead? Doesn’t make sense.

Yes, I was playing a role, but you were being a coward.

You said I hurt you, but you hurt me first. I bruised your ego a couple of times, but you wounded my pride. You can’t just kiss me and feign ignorance to the feelings that surfaced in the pit of your stomach.

You didn’t want to talk about it then, but what about now? Don’t say it’s complicated. It’s not. I hate that word.

Now be a man, own up to your mistakes. Stop playing games and call me out on mine. Let’s face each other, fist fight through our differences and walk away like grown-ups, not churlish kids.

Advertisements
Stay

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.

Too Fast

My Mistake

Barefoot, walk down the dirt path, gently run your fingers through the sea of yellow coneflowers and let the sunshine kiss the tip of your nose.

Your plans of building a future with a stubborn man have gone awry, and even though his heartless manners and calloused words contaminated your world with bitterness and hatred, you must rise above it all.

You must be strong.

Destroy the fire-breathing dragon that your anger spawned inside of your chest. Battle the demons that crawled out of your misery and once again, bury them in the darkness of your mind.

Your heart kept knocking on the door that was never meant to be opened. And, even though you cried and pleaded, the man behind the iron door chose a different path for both of you.

A wave of bitterness swallowed you whole when your words failed to reach the icebox inside of his chest, and you let the tears burn your cheeks as they stream down your face.

Love cannot be controlled, nor can it be suppressed and once it latches on to you like a leech, you are powerless. Your cool, analytical mind is no longer the compass – it loses its way in the infinite labyrinth of false fantasies and becomes dependent on the foolish heart.

And your heart, like a naive animal, falls into a trap.

Soon, an ocean of scarlet consumes your massacred heart and it will drown if you don’t muster the courage to pull through the fog of misery.

The pain will seep out of your pores eventually and your heart will mend, but do not be afraid to walk away.

For if you stay, the pain will remain forever but if you find the courage to sail out of the treacherous reach, you will find happiness.

My Mistake

48 Hours

Three cold, dark nights seeped through my fingers like sand, and unraveled a prickly silence between us.

It lay across my lips like a girth and hid your somber eyes from mine.

Cold as an iceberg, distant as a foreign continent and stubborn as a goat.

Suddenly, you erected walls around your heart without a single word.

I cannot scale these walls nor can I penetrate them anymore.

The battle I waged for your heart is lost, and now there is nothing but an arctic distance between us.

What happened between then and now? What caused this strange behavior?

Tell me, please…

Now, I don’t know how to act around you. You’re neither friend nor foe.

I simply keep my eyes to the ground every time I see you and hope that the pain you spawned inside of my heart will soon disappear.

Such a shame, such pity that my gilded words of love fell on a deaf ear and a stupid man.

Surrounded by so many people that love me, yet I feel so alone without you.

You’re not even mine and I want you.

It’s funny – no it’s sad – actually, it’s quite pathetic to yearn what you cannot have.

What must I do now? Leave? Stay? Fight? Cry?

No. I will sail out of your blasé reach – float down the river of life and never breathe your name again.

You have been discarded into the pile of cowards that I once knew.

There, you will remain for the rest of your life, buried and forgotten.

There, you will fade away.

48 Hours

Molten Chocolate Crush Topped with Açai Berries

Bruised lungs, cracked skull, battered heart and tortured soul – ooh – the first sign of love.

Hypnotized. Sleep deprived. Filled to the brim with emotions.

Devour the heart. Sip on the soul. And keep that porcelain body warm all night long.

Stream sunlight into the darkest corners of the mind and illuminate sinful thoughts of a man with a permanent frown.

Nourish the roots, reap the harvest and protect the flowers that blossom with forgiveness.

Welcome the flaws, eschew insecurities, and fight for the rights to love unconditionally.

Strange and addictive – these feelings are raw, overpowering and completely unrealistic.

Serenade to the ears that will gladly listen to the lies from a lustful mouth.

Don’t fight the current, cave into the passion, follow the heart that never stops beating.

Throw in a life saver for this heart is drowning in a vast ocean of love.

Molten Chocolate Crush Topped with Açai Berries

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

Bullies, Be Gone

Once upon a time, in a green kingdom by the endless sea, lived a child that learned to escape bullying by imagining a beautiful world inside of her young and innocent mind. She drew inspiration from tattered books, Disney movies and the cotton-candy clouds that used to glide across the blue sky outside of her window.

Whenever she closed her eyes, her mind would travel to places that rivaled those of the middle-earth kingdoms; places of enchanted beauty and ethereal grace.

There, she discovered inner peace; a sliver of herself that no bully could ever take away, and there she gained strength to battle endless jeers, malicious torment and pain.

This child got bullied.

A pack of young girls – angelic on the outside but rotten on the inside – found pleasure in tormenting her and sought out sadistic ways of bringing tears to her eyes. Traveling in a pack of five, they’d stalk her after school, throw dirt in her face, call her nasty names and even accuse her of theft.

Once, the leader of the pack hit her on the back of her head because she refused to share her ice cream.

The child fell in love for the first time in second grade. His name was Vanya; he had blonde, cherub-like curls, cornflower-blue eyes and full, pouty lips.

She presented him with a handmade card as a token of her admiration for him, but he ripped it in half and spit in her face. Then, he called her ugly and ran away.

Years passed by and the child became a teenage girl.

With physical changes came hormonal outbursts and bouts of insecurities. The teenage girl gained weight and with extra pounds came insults and self-hate. Every sliver of her body was disgusting in her eyes, especially when compared to the slim and tanned models in the glossy pages of the prestigious fashion magazines.

Fitting room sessions would often end in tears, complaints and angry shouting. The reflection in the mirror was an undesirable, grotesque monster that the teenage girl couldn’t stomach.

She cried herself to sleep every night; she wanted to be thin, pretty and popular.

But, with every attempt to change her appearance, she lost a sliver of her true self. She became obsessed with opinions of those who were never her friends, she sought out ways to impress boys whose hearts drowned in vanity and conceit, and while she tried to fit in with the popular crowd in school, she lost her own identity.

And worse, she became a bully herself.

Her heart became infested with hatred, venom and pride. She spread malicious rumors, wreaked havoc and spawned heartache. The outcome of the cruel game she enjoyed to play trickled into an ocean of tears, agony and pain.

Those years of selfishness, conceit and arrogance had barred the entrance to the enchanted world she had imagined as a child to escape the torment and pain. She never thought she’d find her way back there again until one day.

More years drifted by and the teenage girl became a young woman.

Karma had taught her important lessons: honesty, respect and confidence. After years of wandering aimlessly through a fog of confusion, her heart no longer ached to be accepted by society. Instead, she yearned to travel down the road that no one else had dared to take.

The young woman embarked on a journey to regain her inner peace, but once again she faced harsh criticism. Bitter tongues deemed her originality as blasphemy and instead of showing support, spread malicious rumors and wished her pain.

This time however, the young woman finally found her way back to the enchanted kingdom she had imagined as a child. There, awaiting her safe return was the inner peace that fueled her strength.

The young woman sailed through the hatred, bitterness and criticism with grace. For she learned that she was invincible because she believed in herself and no one but her had the power to tear down her dreams.

The moral of the story is simple, my friends. Remain true to yourself despite the constant jeers, insults and criticism that might get thrown in your face. Remember, bullies thrive on weakness, uncertainty and fear, but have the strength to stand up to those pathetic jerks and fight for your beliefs.

But, remember to speak words of kindness and your heart will always be at peace.

Bullies, Be Gone