Skip to main content

The Teenage Lust Comes In

Brief fantasies betray a forlorn hope and so does the body. Break it down into several different pieces. A dormancy that springs forth into new life if only for a short while knowing that you're not the lustful teenager you once were and she could be old enough to be your daughter. All legal but the feelings betray a certain unease.

You made your bed twisting the sheets out of every proportion. You sleep 'til all hours where a brief fantasy begets the teenage lust and the quarrels that you leave behind. Practices make dreams believe. But all you can do is deceive yourself for that brief moment to tantalise another life, another careful manipulation of what if, if only and so on.

Try to tell yourself age is nothing but a number but the feeling lingers of guilt and shame, especially in the landscape we've provided for ourselves. But it becomes a weapon - a double edged sword for you to fall on. Empty promises become a toxic component - and then there is your increasing impediments. You want a quick fix but she's not a mechanic and doubtless she wouldn't want to be your nurse.

And then there is the fading secrecies of age and intolerance. A political landscape that's hellish to get by. All these broken manners from splintered hopes and dreams. Still fall for the accents like a schoolboy once more. Walking through these places leaves your body in bruises. Jarred knees and the feeling that your body has been kicked in sufficently to know when to give it a rest.

But the teenage lust comes in when you're a fully grown adult. But the teenage lust comes in when you really should know better. And I'd love you in a heartbeat but I'd feel the shame when I see the screenshot on your phone. But your smile would give me hope. Even if I felt like a dope.

Just one more torture for the road

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The One Who Gets In The Way

It seems blackly comical that I persist in loving you even after the time has long since past. You misreading situations from the past like time immemorial. You wanted to be queen, you wanted to have the same feeling that destroyed me as a teenager. Petty jealousies run rife with you. Now you've got someone who has the same petty jealousies you once had. I'm just the enemy who gets in the way. The feelings I believed in but was always too muted for your liking - too timid, no grandstanding acts of love and devotion. You pinpoint the negatives without looking at the reasons why. And if you did you'd twist them to suit your agenda. But then again, this time isn't your fault. You got ambushed when your guard was low and I would've worn you out with my medical provisions. It just hurts when I'm the one who gets in the way. My bitterness has always been a part of me. I've said we'll still be friends but I sometimes wonder if that's the right decision. The...
Post a Comment
Read more

Cold And Cruel

  In the moment that the word was said, twist the knife in me. The fact she's not around makes it that much harder. You've moved on from me and to her dying day liked me for who I am. She went to the ends of town to get the right food that keeps me somewhat healthy. I couldn't repay her enough with my gratitude. I'll miss her. I'll miss you. What you saw as hatred was merely fury and frustration at your stubborn refusal. Goading and belittling a genuine interest in things you didn't see as a problem. You never did, the sounds of "see how good I am, see how I'm helping you" just felt like a self-knowing Mother Theresa mocking me even if it seemed genuinely good intentioned. I wish things turned out differently and my anger never showed. You'd still complain about things I never do to you and bring up old complaints again because you just want to lash out. You'd cut me to pieces and expect me to run like a big old dumb machine. But a moment o...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Ruins of a Faded Life

Along the echoes, past the icy shores. Dreams of a longing going unrequited. You made your bets and came up short. Here he is, the golden child. Seeking bitterness out of the ruins of a faded life. Bowing to the music from another temple. He dreams of iconic nights in a sheen of paper dust. Watch the film roll and watch it all burn. Anxiety forms in the secret shadows, the faucet drips of a secret amnesia etching out familiar words to the former sacred mind. Disintegrating memories of compassion in a lifeless world. Business comes, business calls. Tomorrow's vendetta is last week's sense of dread. But hop in to think out for solutions in the week ahead. If death was the answer, it would have been too good. After all, how fortunate it is for me to want anything at all.
Post a Comment
Read more