altered.perspective altered.perspective

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мѕ perѕpecтιve  cυraтιonѕ oғ a cυrιoυѕ ѕoυl "ι lιĸe тнe wιne and noт тнe laвel."

And while I attempted
To eviscerate you
From my being,
Your taste still lingered on my lips.
-my words
**series end**

•Never Forget•
All these bystanders worried bout our next ones
Trying to calculate whether it could be them
Scheming and scamming to the front of our lines
Yet baby they'll never be able to replace us
We can dismiss
And evade
The discussion
We can wreck
And destroy
Evidence of each other
But the stroke of my hands on your body
They can't touch you like I did
The feel of caresses on my thighs
They don't turn me up like you could
Memories burned in my brain
That domain still holds strong for you
That mind of yours that I challenged
They can't get in like I would
It's time for us to move on
But let's not act like each other never existed.
-my words
#musings #imwritingagain #findingmywordsagain #mywordsaremytruth #thisisthestoryofus

The direct lies, the subtle deceptions - they all added up until we crumbed under their weight. How could I ever let myself love you if I never really felt as if I knew you?
-my words

•Setting Days•
For some god awful reason she wasn't asleep when he messaged. It was 12:53a and by chance she was up writing about them. It had been almost a year since they had spoken and an additional six months before that since they had dated. Time had been good on her heart but apparently he had carried guilt about his final words to her. The conversation had ended with her waking up to a string of sporadic text messages sent over the course of an hour and a half from him. They toggled in tone between "I'm sorry I hurt you", "I'm erasing you from existence" and "let's never speak again". He had never been emotional like that before but she had made it clear that under no uncertain terms would she be revisiting her decision to end things and that had been his reaction. She read it and never responded.
Over the three years that they had been involved he had slowly pushed her away until leaving was the only choice. By the end he had lied, closed himself off and put her last. She craved the sex but her heart couldn't stomach the rest.
Since him she had taken on lovers and even dated but his presence was always a faint whisper to her being. He felt like a ghost haunting her, not to mention the way lovers he had taken while they were together seemed to continually reveal themselves in new ways everywhere she went. There was a desire to move on but a failure to do so. Finally she was doing it though.
She had met someone and was so giddy every time she thought of him that her friends and coworkers didn't recognize her. It was then that her ex reached out via a message in the middle of the night. First a picture of them was sent with a note saying he had come across it and asking how she was. Her heart sped up until it seemed deafening in the evening's silence. His timing was impeccable, she was writing about the good times. It was a final piece for a series that did not end well. She had left this part to write last of all because it hurt to remember. And then suddenly he was there saying he was also thinking of the good times with her too. So she decided to respond.
Continued below⤵️

Love drove me teetering somewhere between lucidity and madness.
-my words

•Witnessed Consumption•
All anyone seems to know about the story of us was our mutually passionate consumption of one another. Our voracious appetites that never seemed to be sated even after hours of devouring each other. I hungered for you in such glutinous ways that often spilled messily into other areas of living. Meetings at work wearing that charcoal leather pencil skirt you had defiled me in so many times would be interrupted by such burning needs that I would excuse myself to find some place in the office just private enough to bring myself to ecstasy.
We broadcasted our scenes, first for private shows and then later invited a wider audience. I abandon all sense of self and my need for anonymity. It didn't matter what others saw, the moments alone were even hotter. Power exchanges of my submission and your domination, your submission and my domination. Few boundaries were ever present between us and I relished the newly discovered depths I could indulge with you. My body responded and performed to your every touch.
So what if others know nothing else,
even now as there is nothing left of us.
-my words
#musings #imwritingagain #findingmywordsagain #mywordsaremytruth #thisisthestoryofus #mariogrigorov feat. #melissanewman #everylittlemovement

Fucking was easy,
It was loving you
That was hard.

I remember the moment he materialized into my life. An early 2000s pearlescent green VW Bug pulled into the parking lot of the predetermined rendezvous place. While I had been anxious all day in anticipation, the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach the second I saw the car holding what I believed to be the person I had been in correspondence with for 6 months were enough to make one dizzy. He stepped out and the first thing that demanded I take notice was his slim 6' 4" stature. I got out of my silver Audi, the form fitting yoga pants I had decided to wear for our hike slid quickly over the leather interior of the seat to bring me instantly to attention. We walked toward each other as if time was pausing for us so we could mentally record every moment. He lifted his sunglasses to reveal those piercing pale blue eyes that had been haunting my sleep. "Hi," it was uttered with slow intention and yet almost with disbelief as if he worried I was an apparition he had created in his mind that would disappear if suddenly startled.
Again he said aloud, "hi".
"Hi," I whispered almost inaudibly.
It would be the start of an exchange we repeated over and over every time we would see each other.
-my words
#musings #imwritingagain #findingmywordsagain #mywordsaremytruth #thisisthestoryofus #thevelvetunderground #paleblueeyes

It's been awhile. Missed me?

Self suspension: pared down hishi harness

•Solace for an Empath•
There are these sweet moments of existing as an empath when I am able to pull out of someone exactly what it is they need to release and let remain the pieces they must have left secure. Yet I still see those shards embedded into their being, them in their entirety as a whole vessel. Each component adding value but a sum greater than its parts. I believe that one of the greatest things we can give someone is to make them feel seen, the fragments and the totality.
The bitter irony though is that empaths themselves are rarely seen. We are the watchers existing in shadows. At times I feel like I am haunted by ghosts, the voices of someone's depths speaking to me, sharing secrets most often filled with pangs not revealed to most. It can be overwhelming and feel as if it is my own. In attempts to self preserve I have to disconnect from listening but it is in those times of complete silence I feel the most alone.
However lonely those junctures are for me, they are critical to my own psyche. Sorting out the other from within, to tune in to the prana and reconnect to what is the essence of me. Without that, I would be lost in the script of others. And it is only once I have safely grabbed the crux of my being, that I can then slowly turn back up the volume of the souls around me.
-my words

All Eyez on Me

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