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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Prostitute for Feelingsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: UnderlinedInRed
    ASL Info:    18/f/PA
    Elite Ratio:    4.24 - 196/262/123
    Words: 179
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 620
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 922



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsProstitute for Feelingsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    I feel like a prostitute for feelings. Like fucking gives you dominance over me, let you tramble till I see I'm bleeding for thee. There are stages to me feelings, the want, the restrain, the giving in, then repeating again. I wanted to know you, to feel for you as you feel for me but then once I held you, there was less of me to begin. I can't feel happiness, I can't feel joy, I'll never love another man as I once did a boy. I cannot trust, nor could I ever, that I would not be heartbroken by one single tether. You say you like me, so why don't I? Why can't I return a feeling as simple as a thy. So we fuck, to see if its there, that connection I am yearning to share. And while its neither good nor bad, its decently polite I still feel as normal as I did the previous night. Then the next morning, as we rise, we fuck again and I start to despise my prostitute for feelings.




    Submitted on 2009-11-09 16:45:18     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      i have found it hard to return feelings as well..like going through the motions...

    it's all show..but beneath we can't let go..after that first major heartbreak..we are never the same...we are always reserved, careful...
    yes there can be the sex...and it can be good...but eventually even that gets stale because there isn't enough emotion behind it..
    we hold back..but then have to wake up in the morning and face ourselves.

    you capture that well in this emotionally raw piece of writing.

    in our youth...we love we feel with reckless abandon.

    then as ally says in Breakfast Club...our heart dies.---or at least it seems to diminish..

    jacob
    | Posted on 2011-06-01 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]


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