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  • bouncy 20m

    #weepc #proverb 23.04.2021 2:25pm

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    Lovesick girl prays

    Swallowing the truth that "absence makes heart grow fonder", burns my throat. I've been loving you in your absence that I never knew what your presence feels like and the distance no longer feels like a distance.

    One word in my mouth crystallizes like sugar: hope.
    The other word in my head lingers like a ghost: hopeless.
    Bewildered between both, I weep over the lost constellations that failed to concoct us.

    Can you hear the masterpiece of my heartstrings and mournings of my nerves that I sing and pray for the moon?

  • bouncy 1d

    #creafic 12:50pm 22.04.2021

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    Lovesick girl dreams

    The glimpses of white stars hit through the white lace of an open window with fluttering curtains. The echo of his vocals kissing treetops and crickets, songs leaving his mouth, reach rubbing against my teeth. Prayers for Eros scattered like ashes of offering spread across my bedroom floor.

    I wake up hearing the buzz, surprised, looking into the man's twinkling eyes staring back at me. He comes closer saying, " There's not much time left". I hold him in a way only angels can hold the other and wait for him to sing me the songs of our first, second and hundredth meeting.

    He begins to sing with the sync of my thoughts and I begin to understand the language of our dead silent love. I feel his breath in my veins and his heartbeat in the pit of my stomach.

    He sings the songs that knit my bone to his bones and I cut myself open to let the thunderstorm dash against my ribs.

    He sings to me. He sings of me.

  • bouncy 1d

    Bewildered whether to restore or to delete
    your unclear polaroid pictures,
    I keep you caged within the trash bin.

  • bouncy 4d

    #cityc @writersbay 01:30pm 19.04.2021 #bb_er #slowly @writersnetwork
    Tried something which is unusual for me.

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    A city of blindfolded games

    "But you are not supposed to look at me. You will be blindfolded", she blurted. This game of ours have been the tradition for many years.

    She is usually egoistic and self centered. But when it comes to me, she never failed to remind me that I'm being loved.

    By the evening she will arrive in the city.
    I scrolled through my phone finding her newly updated display picture. I couldn't take my eyes off her. She always kept them black and white.

    I shut the door and she walked across the hall to find candles and a matchbox. And came back with a glass of wine. A girl, barely 19, is a classy woman with standards.

    She still wears the same cologne I once chose for her. She will never be the women with perfect hair but she is a woman with perfect choices. She could never unlove me although I never returned it.

    I smiled, she didn't return it.

    "Don't you wanna talk?", I insisted while she is about to unbutton me.
    "Does it matter when all you want is sex but not love?", She shot back.

    I guess, she has decided to move on finally. I'm happy for her.

    Slowly, she has set me free from the shackles that are welding me down. Taking the charge, she whispered perverted things in my ear. I felt home.

    Every single inch of her body pressed against mine, she uttered, "Put your ego aside and let me lead you, I'll poison your sinless body with seduction."

    I stayed calm as she instructed me. Even though all I wanted is sex, she is here to make love treating me like a child.

    "Can I have you?
    I shall spill the ink of blood through my veins into your mouth forming letters of love", she whispered running her fingers all over my skin.

    I moaned, she slapped.

    Her soft lips to my lips, she blew hot breaths. She tasted, entwined her tongue with mine. Her voice, a broken whisper got my nerves high. The adrenaline rush I felt was like electricity pulsating through each nerve in my body.

    When she is done, she handed over the wine to me.

    "Why do you want this, when you don't want me?" She spoke.

    "Why despite the fact that I always pushed you beyond the limits both physically and mentally, you always come back?"

    "I come back because I'm addicted to the animalistic craving of dark within you and wanting to attain something that is unattainable."

    "But I think I may not be the marrying kind."

    She dossed.

    By the time I woke up she left the city. She also left the cologne. As I guessed, she finally decided to move on.

  • bouncy 5d

    On a winter evening
    When I walked past the dark streets
    Having no idea of where and why
    You guided me as the moonlight
    And I discovered a part of me which
    I never knew existed in me
    Every night, the firefly producing
    bioluminescence that passes by,
    asks about you and I tell her

    "He is a collection of paradoxes
    Controversial wreck and a classical mess
    Around dozen personalities in one
    Who is predictable in his unpredictability
    A poet in relationship with rhymes
    Who lives in a cozy world called metaphors,
    Walls decorated with cursing verses,
    Furniture that bleeds pain"

    "Wait! Is he a satan?" Firefly interrupts me.

    "No! He is no sarcasam sarcasticbong who is as hard as the moon to own but the silvery luminance he produces is for the universe to own."

    @sarcasticbong I can write and write yet not get short of words to describe you. All I wanted to say is THANK YOU AND SORRY.

    @writersbay You know, you gave the right person. Thank you soo much bay �� #paradoxbong #weekendc

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  • bouncy 1w

    #pbegc @writersbay 10:40am 15.04.2021

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    What good is a day without a sound sleep the last night?", I wonder.
    Insomnia knocks every night. He resides in my head and turns home into a haunted house. The darkness lurks in every corner of my room. He rearranges all the furniture placing knives and razor's all around and utters "Sup? I'm just messing", with a raised eyebrow. I raise my eyes and gazing at him, I yell. I scream. He walks closer, kisses me that taste's like a cigarette burning my skin and speaks into my mouth, "What good is a day without me in your head the last night?"

  • bouncy 1w

    Making a cup of love

    A cup of Love
    A cup of Libido
    Tongue decorated with metaphors
    Ten fingers holding poetries
    Mouthful of verses
    A pinch of submission
    Few artistic skills to paint the canvas

    Before going onto the procedure, add these for extra spiciness:
    Set the mood right.
    Set some candle lights all around your room, playing your favourite music in the background. You can choose a perfume to evoke the pheromones. Have a shot or four to get intoxicated.

    Pour a cup of love and put the flame on low. Now, read her body with metaphors decorated across your tongue moving from chin to below side of her neck. Run the poetical fingers from her shoulders to curves of her chest and place mouthful of erogenous verses around the curves of her mamilla. Pass a pinch of submission until your souls connect and unfurl a tender electricity increasing the flame so the pride in both of you evaporates. Now pouring a cup of libido, dance over her naked body as she spreads her legs like a canvas hankering for the artist to paint her colours. Wanna be the best artist? Paint her blue, divide into her water, drown deep into her until she sway her hips like the waves of an ocean. Keep drowning until you sense a grape juice produced within the petals between her thighs.

    Perfect artist. You nailed it.

    #recipe @writersnetwork 10:30pm 13.04.2021

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    Making A Cup of Love

  • bouncy 1w

    5:05pm 13.04.2021

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    The way you pick up the words from your heart makes me wanted to take you to every place I go and read you again and again as if you are the only book I'm left with.
    The way you hide yourself under sheets makes me want to flip through each and every page, underline my favourite lines of you and tell my friends about how wonderful you are.

    Unfortunately I couldn't, because you are the book written on dark pages with a transparent calligraphy.

  • bouncy 1w

    #hopec 11:00am 13.04.2021 @writersbay

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    Hope is the feeling of permanency in the temporaries of us being together. It is a crumpled paper with uncountable wrinkles which you never bothered to pick up.

    Hope is wanting to see the world through blurred teary eyes for clarity forces me to look at the truth that "us" is just an illusion.

  • bouncy 2w

    I've never experienced a love like this.
    It feels as hot gentle breeze in the summer walking me on the air having a grin on my face like a cheshire cat and thinking of your name makes the oxytocin dance in hypothalamus intoxicating my ebullient soul.