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.

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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

Lead, I Will Follow

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Lead, and I for once, will follow.

Gently take hold of my trembling hand and lead my bare feet across the cold sand.

The sky is steel-grey, plagued with ominous, dark clouds. The sea is in turmoil, and it patiently waits to swallow us whole like a ravenous monster and rob our lungs of the air we value more than gold.

The violent waves whisper come hither. They hunger for our flesh.

Do not be scared, I beg you. Do not fear what is beyond your control. Instead, plunge into the unknown and uncover its mystery. There, I’m sure, you’ll find answers to the questions that plague your mind. There, you’ll be at peace.

I take a lungful of the cold, salty air. It burns the inside of my nostrils and tickles my throat.

The wind beats against my rosy cheeks but I continue to follow your footsteps. I do not question you.

You were born to be a leader. So, lead.

But, if I start to drown, will your strength break down my weakness and push me to the surface? Or will your pride swallow mine and let me sink to the bottom of my watery grave?

I’m scared now, but I don’t show it.

My dear friend, lead. And, I will dutifully follow you.

Lead, I Will Follow

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