Delusionship and the likes

I went online to delete my sex work ads.

Scrolling through the directory I stopped at your profile. Your beauty still knocks me off. And it hurts, a lot, I'm shaking.

So sad that we don't talk anymore. So sad that we hurt each other that much. An handful of traumas here and there, sexual violence is a language, neglect as a relationship status.

You were my second first love, the one that truly matters.

I was in love. Was I ? Or did my tendency to live insecurity as form of attention got the best of me ?

Do you remember that song we used to listen ? It went " Hope you understand, we won't go as planed....hold me while you can, hold me while you can "

Nothing could beat a second teenagehood at your side. I dreamt of summer robes, chilled wine, a café somewhere in Italy, hand by hand. I guess you were just happy to have me as your best friend and sex partner.

Why did I fell in love ? Partly because you're angelically beautiful, that is for sure. Because we shared thoose burning flames, undead carcasses, laughing tears, laughtears.

The way you had so much presence in your low self-esteem. Baby you're gold and shine, glowing on your loved ones.

We weren't even opposites, just strangers from lands afar from each other; naked, Babel rebuilt.


Truth is. Truth is. Truth is. Truth is. Truth is.





Over a year, not over you.

They are missing parts in this story. I live with guilt of supposed wrong doings. I miss you (not).