friendly and open. highly empathetic. tolerant (to pain as well). blind trust. maximum give. that's me. positive sociability and willing to take up more crap than allowed on any normal person's agenda. attracted to dominant, extrovert and excitement- seeking men.
frank. my psychopath i send my girlfriend to the asylum boy. who wants to convert his anger into dominance.
i am a dominant myself. and as soon as i tie a man up feeling ceases to exist. i get bored and look for another prey.
sensitive and good listener,oh he likes that.and i like the terrible crazy look in his eyes which turn absolute black when i whisper him poetry.
i get him , i get him all. an dthe fucking thing is that, the more i empathize, the more he ties me up.
i see his insecurities clearly. i see the picture he sees and the bigger one that he doesn't see. i feel i could go away anytime i wanted. but i just don't want to.
the truth. i, i, i. i want him, this bad bad bad him. i want the sex and the laughter, the talk and the anger, the poetry and the air made of exploding particles, the euphoria, the trance, the taste of caramel, the tattooed man making me breakfast. the fighting and the yelling, the absurd and the pain. the violence and the bitterness. i want to filter it all through mySelf.
and its all in my little head.
he's zero empathy, unable to keep a relationship. will never love me.
so why the fuck do i stick around? i say to myself, as long as there's no pain,i can stick around. so its an army of me against and with myself to make me a princess, detached enough to be able to stick around.
besides, it would be so damn boring without this story.
"i need to start fucking other boys as well. excuse my lack of poetry. "
frank. my psychopath i send my girlfriend to the asylum boy. who wants to convert his anger into dominance.
i am a dominant myself. and as soon as i tie a man up feeling ceases to exist. i get bored and look for another prey.
sensitive and good listener,oh he likes that.and i like the terrible crazy look in his eyes which turn absolute black when i whisper him poetry.
i get him , i get him all. an dthe fucking thing is that, the more i empathize, the more he ties me up.
i see his insecurities clearly. i see the picture he sees and the bigger one that he doesn't see. i feel i could go away anytime i wanted. but i just don't want to.
the truth. i, i, i. i want him, this bad bad bad him. i want the sex and the laughter, the talk and the anger, the poetry and the air made of exploding particles, the euphoria, the trance, the taste of caramel, the tattooed man making me breakfast. the fighting and the yelling, the absurd and the pain. the violence and the bitterness. i want to filter it all through mySelf.
and its all in my little head.
he's zero empathy, unable to keep a relationship. will never love me.
so why the fuck do i stick around? i say to myself, as long as there's no pain,i can stick around. so its an army of me against and with myself to make me a princess, detached enough to be able to stick around.
besides, it would be so damn boring without this story.
"i need to start fucking other boys as well. excuse my lack of poetry. "
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