suspendedinEcstasy.

Sharp kisses as the night falls. Desperate screams bouncing off the walls; the paint is peeling off the walls, and echoes rain throughout the hallway.
He said he’d always be there. Her protector, her carer. The world would be falling and he would be near her. The demons’d be calling but he’d steal her fear he’d, steal her worries. And burdens, he’d be her parachute. For whenever she’d want to surrender.
But now like a lamb, she’s forced to surrender.
The child of a lesser God has found his own Isaac;
Her toes skid the ground as he starts to get violent.

Reveries of that bridge at that time. He gave a letter she read by the pines where the squirrels played, where she liked to hide. He loved her new work, as he asked for some time, to “learn how you right those beautiful rhymes”

Then her tears bring her back, as they burn through her eyelids.

He looks in her eyes and her insides are crying, internal arson, his lovers dying.

Desperate.

He’s thrusting his member, whilst he flutters his eyelids. Her eyes are closed, shes no longer crying she’s.

No longer crying.

Stroke by stroke as he kisses her soul and steals her worries once more.

You’ll feel pain no more.

Bass pounding through my ears, through the ground and the round the town of you and I. Our own community filled with the trebles of love and protection. You secure me with your songs of affection. Your care’s like a song selection. Time taken, like a thief in the night.
In the depths of the bass I’m reborn like The Christ. Through your lyrical truths my soul resurrects and the beat of your heart seems to keep me alive.
I love you. First and latter life. You mothered me through your rifts and rhymes and I, I am ever grateful.

X

Her heart had a timely beat, like the sounds of the labourers steps; when loafers kiss concrete.
The habitual taps of a thumb. Like a stick to a drum. Or the rough palms against a talking one. The small but heavy sound that follows on; like the after-sighs of an argument.

Piccadilly line. Blasé reveries of that one particular time. Skywalkers and lights and the stars never shone so bright; she’d never known a fictional film to give such insight. That night, he stared in her eyes, and the timely-beating heart turned to an ocean of wild tides.

Then she opens her eyes.

The summer sun beats on her like a talking drum. Screams at her like a father to a son. Weather woman fanned herself as the worst was yet to come. “we’re in for yet another one!”

The heat remains enthroned. Beating.

Pancake house. Waffles ordered. Fork-feeding and nostalgic conversations. Sweat beads and heart palpitations. Car rides, through the city of London and down south. Foreshadows creeping through invisible suns. Box-tight so being close was the only option. Love & Basketball so getting close was the only option. Feelings brew like a Red Devil’s compensatory beverage. A haribo heart was all it took. The sun was long-ago set. The darkness of body soon crept, over mine. Soon the mind was shadowed by the appeasing and the weather changed oh, so, quickly. Clouded judgements and rainy thighs. From here, an ellipsis arrives. The next sight seen were angry tears from an angry guy. Clothes put on and swift goodbyes. Train rides home; and I thank my God that the rain was falling, no one saw me cry.