Romantic Honesty

My ears were once bleached
by the harassing words of heartache,
concerning the abolishment of the romantic
from the society wherein I reside.
Even before this news bruised my cheek,
I had policies agaisnt honesty,
for nobody wants to hear the bluntness of a yearning heart,
craving lustrous affection. But your eyes
deceive the stereotypical remarks made by the mouths
of prior visitors, who complained that truthfulness
was barely bearable. I needlessly halter
my decision to use you as my own confessional,
and leap without second thought
into the midst of feelings I have arranged
so tidily for you, in suppressed linen bags
awaiting the trash receptacle. I have fallen
too many times before because of a pretty face,
but none were ever so inviting as yours,
and due to this, I know you are the cigarettes
I ought to never smoke; you are the hallucinogenic substance
I should not ingest. But my heart betrays
my other senses, readying itself to be executed
by your admittance, that you cannot return
the avalanche of feelings, buried deep within
my unwavering adoration. Your eyes,
like blossoming flowers,
flourish amongst the beauty of your soft complexion,
your lips, with every word
expelled from across your tongue,
urging my own to touch them. Your body, blessed
by a curvature
more sumptuous than any hourglass,
cannot possibly be ignored, my mind having castigated
me, each time I overlooked
the opportunity to admire your artful figure.
Your broken English serenades my heart
like the lyrics of Faye Wong,
your psychedelic voice
mesmerizing
me
into
submission.
I could spend a hundred years or more
discovering you and your culture,
and even then, I would have barely breached the surface.
Your personality,
a mixture of introverted shyness
and spontaneous happiness,
coupled with your family-oriented heritage,
the respectfulness you bestow
upon all others, mirroring a soul of utter kindness,
that may still have thorns should I approach.
Your heart is not transparent enough
for my own to ascertain
whether your love already belongs to another,
and maybe this fear, that keeps me from walking towards you,
will become my eventual downfall.
Had I not been so restrained by abstract hesitation,
there would have been little spared sacrificing,
in order to have you selfishly to myself,
and in this moment of uncontrolled passion,
I would thrust you against the wall,
nibbling my way down your spine,
removing any garment
that dared deter my lips,
from going down on you.
Reluctance would be torn asunder
in the preoccupation of my dream,
and even if I had a thousand life times,
awaiting me like a rallying cry
at the moment of my passing,
one with you would surely be enough,
in which I make love to you every single night,
exploring
every
inch
of that paradise you call a body,
before holding you close,
your bosom pressed against my chest,
your breath upon my ear.
But what luck is there
agaisnt the many barriers, that bludgeon
my conditional hope,
and though the admittance of defeat
is not an endeavor I longed to achieve,
I find any other option, is plagued by crippling doubt,
and as I whisper my goodbyes to you
in an almost inaudible tone, not wanting you
to ever know, from fear of the shame it might bring,
I announce secretly to myself: you, my dear, are perfect.

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About totalovrdose

I am an online journalist, video game reviewer, mental health advocate and post graduate university student. I am a massive video gaming geek; a lover of intellectual conversations; an award winning procrastinator; a devilishly charming nuisance and the definition of 'fun' (sometimes). My blog is filled with many a soporific love poem, and is simply the beginning in my quest to become a published author. Please stop by and say 'Hi!' (that rhymes!) :D

Posted on June 10, 2015, in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. Glad to see you back, my friend! 🙂

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