ATTAAAAAACK | the warmth

life

wrestle it to the ground, put it in a choke hold. when it eventually breaks out and smashes a folding chair to your forehead, you take it and get ready to get up after getting raped with it's elbow.

then it's your turn to dish out the hurt.


[tangent]

i be bobby you be whitney..

will you be my crackbitch? we can live in desperation together.. huddle next to each other every fearful, neurotic, paranoid episode after a hit wears off.

what do you say? sound like something you wanna do? we can suck dick for coke. together.

[end tangent]

that's from an old post from my old journal.

i was perusing through old pictures of my recently removed ex and myself.

and i miss it.

not her, but human contact. someone's warmth.

you know during the winter time, when you have to whip out the huge comforters and blankets, and you bundle yourself up at night, and when you wake up, you're in such perfect comfort and warmth that you just don't want to get up for anything?

remember what it feels like to reach over in the cold morning and run your hand over the hot back of the one you're with? your finger tips melting with each successive inch, warming not only your body, but your soul? something as slight at their radiating warmth is enough to fill you up with optimism and love, isn't it?

you can't help but put that retarded smile on your face and roll over, and instead of just taking in the warmth with your hand, you attach yourself like a suction cup and take as much of it in as you can, cause it's exhilarating.. in the calmest, most serene way exhilarating can possibly be.

it seems as if our bodies are perfectly sculpted to take fitment of a human being. from behind, placed in front, along the sides.. it works. the way the back arches so perfectly into your torso, how your arms just slide down alongside the ribs, how your legs intertwine like.. like legs, intertwining. how your face lines up into the nape of their neck, your lips teasing that tender area underneath the ear lobe, your fingers twirling around the stomach, your breath dancing along the shoulders..

the lack of words beside 'warmth' and the lack of metaphors, i think, justifies the purity that involves this subject. nothing complex, just this feeling of love. unadulterated, bashful and playful, love.