deux flames

the single life. a lethal mixture of loneliness and horniess

i want a fuck to make me emptier i want to cry whenever theres a moan i want you to leave before i wake but dont leave without a kiss on my forehead my only solution is to masturbate in hopes that this will all go away

all i really want is to be wanted

its the fear of not only the warmth my touch gives off but of how it feels scorched

its never the same

its the fear of not only that everything feels in place but of how you wont allow yourself to feel anything

its the all the same

its the fear of not only the cycle of self denial and trials of losing yourself but of how it’ll combust a fire so strong it can’t be put out

i’m the same.

He bathes in only crystal clear water, it doesn’t reflect nor hide what’s beneath.
He shivers as the warmness gathers around his body, he was never use to the warmth. He lived on coldhearted, snorted only to himself and created a mind full of fantasies, escapes and graves.

He felt uncomfortable in this heat. The blazing fiery gold of ones speech and entirety. He shone above all and maybe it reached too high.

He was always too high. High off everything but the madness of the worlds. He felt like it was too perfect. It was too perfect.

He needed some awfulness to fill the void that nested perfect love only four days ago. He saw it. Like tumbling rocks or death approaching, he knew that the sessions of drinking by himself, all day long was the end because he was lonely, afraid, upset, confused, self-destructive.

Every wrong, memory and morning.

He felt critically ripped. He lived in fear and only the worst could come through living your life properly. At this point, he lives towards a feeling of fakeness that proves something to the world that he was strong.

And now he begins a new journey into proving that power doesn’t come from the lowest of things but what it all contains.

I guess I like to think of forever because it soothes the thought of now, this instant. The reality of everything that pushes me every second is smothered by the word forever. It’s motionless.

I feel attractive.

it sucks to know that ill never be over him. theres still that curiousity and hunger to find out what he’s up to.

i’m not fit to be in a relationship nor am i stable.

idk. i hate myself

its complete fuckery. this is the straw that broke the camels back. lesson learned.

—

its a week into my month of sobriety until my birthday. so far, it fucking sucks. it made me realize how my communication skills are so askrewed from drinking. the one thing i hate is finding something to occupy yourself with. at this moment, starbucks has yet to officially hire me so im stuck on my couch, watching the o.c. all day which isnt bad at all. i guess. spending time with my sister has been GREAT bonding times and everybody else? im tired of hearing/seeing/txting anybody.

anything that comes out of anybodies mouth, i could give two fucks about. especially my roommates. all i ever think when they speak to me is either i dont care or okay. ok ok ok. ok is all i can say. i hate when people waste their breathe into saying pointless things or stuff that doesnt matter. or drama that theyve brought upon themselves? i dont give a fuck. its at the point where i might snap from keeping my thoughts in. being sober isnt hard. finding things to do and not killing anybody is hard.

I couldn’t take the look on your face.

Theres a snowy image that grinds through my guilt. The look of when we first met. Your smile simply innocent and your voice a tone too low. When we compared hand sizes, our intentions clear but we were too afraid to show them.

But most of all, your eyes.
You killed me with your eyes.

How they never kept a straight gaze but wandering to places unknown. The slyness and sparks. They never lie. It takes me back to the first time we ever decided to shower together but also it was the first time I said I love you. The split second look you gave me before you rested your head on my shoulder and cried.

i’m bitter. i havent had the chance to express my thoughts.

although i miss him, its as though he completely forgot about me. i’m forgettable. yeah, i brought you to a concert. i’m upset that we don’t have conversations. all it comes down to is how we’re doing and hi. hi. hi.

you continue to make me incredibly frustrated. ahhhhh. i dont even KNOW you. i’m lame. i’m a chaser for boys i dont know.

ones who claim that they’ll see me in a few days, ones who give me certain looks and goes home with my friend instead of me, ones who reconfirm that it was a great first date, ones who dont know who i exist, ones who are too good for me, ones who are straight, and ones who couldnt really give a fuck that i exist.

positive: loyal, responsible, travel, communicative, intuitive, fame, creative, versatile, trustworthy

negative: selfish, insecure, stubborn, fault-finding, dull, withdrawn, prejudiced

soul mates: jan 4, 31, feb 2, 29, mar 27, apr 25, may 23, june 21, july 19, aug 17, sept 15, oct 13, nov 11, dec 9

in past eight months, i’ve lost fifteen pounds.

from january to the last time i checked the scale two months ago, i lost ten and today when i stepped onto it, yet another five.
15 pounds. 

i have always been at a constant weight for the past 4 years and i’ve dramatically dropped weight ever since i moved out. it’s all the m and skipped meals, not to mention how hard i dance when i’m dropping.

i feel so unattractive and disgusting. i’ve always wanted to be thin though.
i remember telling people that i was fat and i need to shed some, work out some more, get some abs. the typical hot gay bod.
but now that i’m stick thin, i hate looking at my body.

i’m content with how my legs look and the compliments are great but i’m too thin, it’s gross. i guess all i need to do is build muscle since all my fats gone. yipee…