She wears imagination as a crown and her body is draped by her dreams. She wears ambitions on her wrist, and hope stitched in every seam. She wears the shades of a bright future on her eyes, tones of kindness in her smile. She is heightened by heels of wisdom, she’ll work only for happiness until she retires.
//navk.
Some days you’re the wrecking ball, some days you’re the one it’s wrecking on. How could it really take this long; It’s like you got the settings wrong. But nothing’s ever set in stone. You can be my heroin and I can be your methadone. I know that you’ve felt alone, we’ve grown apart but at least we’ve grown. Somewhere trapped in the zone, trying to find a place to call home. But how low will you go in order to reach the top? When the light show fades it’s time for us to stop. Take another capsule and make sure that it lasts us. Downing more bottles like liquid cancer. Dancers, not human, lost in the banter. Living only for the days that this life grants us.
//navk.
Sometimes I’m not scared, I’m terrified. Terrified to the point where I’m petrified. Petrified as in paralyzed. Like staring deep into her eyes like an abyss of lies. Lies, like her true colours in disguise. More guys than I realized have been between her thighs. Too much between the lines for me read. The truth covered up too well for me to see. Anguish on repeat. Torn seams, broken dreams. Unleash the beast, and the demons inside of me. All these reside in me and her insecurities rely on me. She cries to me, says that we should try. But now it’s grey skies, welcome to winter in July.
//navk.
She possess aesthetics beyond praise. Needless to say, her profound beauty left me speechless and amazed. Imprinted in my brain and left me in a daze. For days, I’ve been trying to catch her gaze. Because one look into her eyes takes me to a better place. She carries the warmth of the sun’s rays. She’s the one by whom I want my sons raised. She’s got the touch of heaven’s grace. She’s like sunshine in the rain, acetaminophen for the pain. Innocent as a babe, strutting in her tiny frame. But despite what I have to say, she’ll never look this way.
Thus, my feelings for her in vain.
//navk.
Even doormats have more dignity, in that they at least get laundered. My welcome sign may be faded and worn but it’s enough for you to make out. Certainly, it is enough for you to make yourself home for as long as you please. Knowingly or unknowingly, you’ll prove yourself successful in transforming me from what I once was. Just like all those before you have. Before you leave, you’ll wipe your feet on me one last time. Ensuring yourself, above all others, that you are well on your way. And if you are to return to this abode, you will do it all again, with no shame or regard. But I swear, even doormats have more dignity. Because for me, I can’t wash your prints off from my skin.
//navk.
I want to study you. I want to study your smile and every degree of your frown. And discover the ways I can turn it back upside down. I want to learn the things that make you tick, the things that make you flip. I want to read your lips and finish your sentences before you even say them. There’s only one language I want to learn, and that’s your body language. That is, the language your body speaks to me, so intimately, and I intently listen. Content with every lesson it teaches me. And I talk back, I ask questions. Demonstration, please! I’m taking note of the way you walk, the way you sway. The way the wind can’t touch you, observing how heads turn your way and dense crowds part like Moses and the sea. And you see, I want to study your curves; the road between your teeth and your toes, every inch of flesh. I want to become familiar with your taste, and the shape of your waist, and the places I can rest my hands when they become too tired when out in public. Where I can wrap them safe, in embrace and warmth and have the peace of mind to know that they’re in good care. I want to analyze every salty tear drop that falls from your eyes and trace them back to their origins. See, I can construct a complete descriptive course syllabus entirely on you, with an entire chapter dedicated to your mind alone. I want to associate with your mind and befriend your every solitary thought. In other words, I want to know you. All of you. Every last biological cell in your body. I don’t need a textbook, all I need is you. Right in front of me ready to teach. Because I’m ready to learn. I’m ready to absorb you, like a sponge does liquid. I’m ready to embark on an academic journey solely on your being.
//navk.
Elusive, her eyes were so lucid. Lips so ruthless, fiending for acoustics. She needs to keep them shut, like gluesticks. She’s a freak, like a zoo trip. I’m a beast, I’m brutish. You can call me Brutus, Marcus Junius. I’ll toss her Caesar salad, yeah I’ll smash it up. Getting room service without them asking us. Loose lips, juicy kisses in a dim lit room, sex in the bathroom. She’s hollering my name like I give a fuck. I mean, I like to fuck, but I really don’t give a fuck. That’s what’s up. The loose strap of her dress was clearly meant to impress. I had to suppress my offence, and smiled in defence. Because I don’t understand why women go to these depths. To present themselves to be worth..less. Worthless. They don’t deserve this. I’m throwing curses, writing them in cursive. I’m Kanye West. “Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay,” fuck it though; excuse my French — You’ll have to pardon may (me). I’m walking on a cloud, fuck it’s not a dream though. She’s living out her fantasy, she’s only after gold. I’ll only toss her coal so you can call me Scrooge. Pay two dollars for her soul and for every time she screws. It’s true, just call it the Benjamin blues.
- - -
*a bit more rap-esque, but not exactly so.
//navk.
She got her titties perked, nipples poking through her shirt makes my dick go berserk. Stick up in my jeans until it hurts, I need to burst. My mind is in the dirt, but whatever works. While I’m at school it’s even worse, it’s like they all rehearsed it. Asses looking so perfect, need I even ask if it’s worth it? Putting on a show with no curtains; me, I’m just a critic. No intentions to get with it, but so many bodies so vivid so I’m just living it up. But I gotta wonder if you’re really here to learn or to strut your stuff.
Shit, this ain’t a fashion show. But yo, who am I to say no?
//navk.
I’m ill-fated, life’s terrible demonstration. Curse my concentration, karma’s condemnation. My mind is pacing, desecration. The dedication I once had now steady wasting in my cranium. Put my in an insanium, asylum. I’m like Odysseus feeling the wrath of Poseidon. I feel the heat like Hades, I’m underground like Osiris. It’s such a crisis, I don’t like this but like always I’ll fight it.
Bring it on.
//navk.
