Indulgence
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- Parts 1
in·dulge
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verb
allow oneself to enjoy the pleasure of.
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Him, it was him, I wanted to self indulge in his love and loose myself completely. His eyes, oh how I could loose myself in his crystal blue eyes, they were sharp but so pretty pulling me in to look into them one last time. His smile pulled me in making sure I was a hopeless puddle of pitiful love. His love was so graceful in a way. But loving him? It was far from graceful.
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When a match meets a wick it ignites it. In this case The two "rejects" light one another. Will it burn out eventually? Or will it in cause everything in its way in a fiery doom burning themselves into one another for good?
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Her, I wanted her. She had alit something inside of me no drug or alcohol could do. The way her smile sent 'butterflies' to stomach. Her eyes pinning my every thought. Her warmth sent comfortable chills down my spine. Loving her? Not an easy thing at all. She has wall built high surrounding her every emotion. I want to love her freely but that pesky wall is not going to be easy to take down.
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Juinper Kingston
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Alexander Gray
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All Rights Reserved
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Dear prince charming , Don't you know she bled ? All the 'i love you's' between your cigarette breaths were the only lies said. Dear prince charming , don't you know she smiled ? with knives in her back much like a girl gone wild? Dear prince charming , don't you know you were her only light? but it wasn't her on top of you last night. Dear prince charming , was loving you such a crime? perhaps that's why they say , commit full-time. So , pardon the surprise when your betrayal burned. -into her veins , and the sweet smile overturned. There stood your girl out of breath , Her soul craved your death. Aftermath of brutality , never looked this lustful. You did always say , she was quiet the handful. They say murder is an art , perhaps yours was where she'd start. To take away a life , is to play god in devils playground you wont be laughing when your angel is hell bound. It's not a love story , but for those walking with a bleeding heart. After all , hell is a writers bedside table and heaven is a completed draft.
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