I’ve been thinking.
About all the times I’ve sinned.
Would you forgive me?
I constantly think about your smooth, silky skin.
Do you feel me?
I’ve been hurt in the past,
But I might be again.
Could you heal me?
Good morning my love.
How far would you go
To leave all your fake friends
For a real me?
If I told you I would die for you, baby
Would you kill me?
Would you lie in the covers, leer me to your bed.
Would you poison those thighs and let me give you head
Would you choke me romantically; my neck in your legs.
Would you kill me with pleasure,
Or do I have to beg?
Will you sit on my shoulders and tug at my hair,
Squeeze your thighs on my cheeks while I’m seeking for air.
Dig your feet in my spine,
Scratch my back to a tear,
Could you yell baby? loud,
just to make sure Im there?
Go slow, turn the fan up
Your touch is a flame
I’ll buckle up Baby
Just drive me insane!
Let’s break all the rules
Don’t stay in your lane.
Is the best kind-of pain.
I’ve thought of you every day; my Sugar, my Honey.
So let me know baby.
How bad do you want me?
I LOVE THE SOUND OF THUNDER
I love the sound of thunder. It’s like a beautiful woman with anxiety. Uncontrollable bursts of uncertainty. Often preceded by a quick stab of lightening, or insecurity. Very bright, gorgeous, natural but scary. It can change the mood of an entire room all while shining light on the people who don’t understand it.
It’s the anthem of all the failures and challenges that have made a person successful. You may see their lightening, but you’ll need to stick around to hear their story; the sound of thunder.
I love the sound. Colossal, yet calming. Mother Earth giving birth to the rain, extracting it’s nourishment, enduring the pain. The characteristics of a decent person. A wallflower. A decent person. A small flower in a field full of monkey grass. Not standing tall but standing out. She is not the thunder, but the thunder is her impact. The sound of when she fights back. It’s rare but it’s frightening. And it hides behind her lightening. Her anxiety is but irony: incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs. And she claims it with her whole heart. That uncertainty is hers. But she hates the sound. She hates the sound. She hates the sound; she hates it!
Thunder. Clash. Thunder. Crash. WHAT THE FUCK WHERE ARE MY CIGARETTES, DID YOU THROW THEM IN THE TRASH?!?
Once upon a time I didn’t understand the thunder, now I see it’s like a spell this anxiety’s got you under.
Thunder. Doom. Thunder. Boom. I CANT FIND MY ____ I SWEAR I LEFT THEM IN THIS ROOM!
Lightening. Wow. Thunder. Pow. “I’m sorry for all the things I said when I was freaking out”
I love the sound, I love the sound, oh I love the sound of Thunder.