SYNOPSIS: Below is a love letter which is, as of yet, not addressed to anyone in particular, but revolves around the feelings a man has for a woman that he loves with a fiery passion. If you wish, you may fill in the blanks with your own name, initials, or any other requirement.
Dear Ms. Insert Last Name
Pardon me for the uninvited intrusion, but please, may I have permission to borrow a couple minutes of your time to confess to you something that has been weighing on me so?
I would very much like to ask ‘why cannot two adults simply have a conversation without there been any implied bias, hidden agenda or innuendo?’ I would like to ask this question, but sadly, I cannot, for I have a confession to make before I begin. What I have to say will not come out with ease, and I cannot promise you that it will be easy to hear. I cannot promise that it will not give way to any unforeseen consequences or repercussions. But I can promise that I will always be truthful.
So, with that said, if you do not wish to perhaps experience any complicated awkwardness that may very well be aroused by the words that shall be expressed in the letter you now read, I would ask that you stop reading immediately. I would however appreciate it if you would continue, because I would very much like for you to know the truth.
There has been something I wish to confess to you for some time now. Perhaps I am not strong enough; not courageous enough to confess such words to your face. I honestly cannot tell – all I can say to you is that I have written all that I have wanted to say into the following paragraphs of the letter you, with much hope, might still be reading.
There is something I wish to tell you, and now is as good as any place to start. There is this young woman; this intoxicatingly ravishing young woman whose beauty is above and beyond the comparison of others. She is utterly flawless Ms. Insert Last Name, and if there is anything wrong with her, I certainly cannot see nor find it.
Physically, she is, as previously mentioned, incredibly beautiful. She has this Insert Colour exotic skin, beautiful Insert Colour eyes, and deliciously Insert Colour luscious hair. On top of this, she often wears Insert Attire which on some women appears utterly ridiculous, but on her, it actually works, and exenterates her beauty, although such a thing is both unnecessary and almost impossible for she is perfect just the way she is.
However, when I say this woman is ‘beautiful’, I do not mean simply in the physical sense, but in every form imaginable. She is so irresistibly charming and has been brought up with such in-depth views and values of the world that she is often seen blossoming with such a magnificent attitude. She is so easy to communicate with, and this is made easier by the fact that she is not only quite humorous, but incredibly intelligent. Not only this, but the commitment she applies to her work, and the fact that she strives to complete of all the endeavors that she begins to the best of her ability is a very attractive quality of hers.
On top of this, she has this smile – you know the one, and don’t for a second think I don’t know that you do! When many people smile – men and women alike, they seem so fake and insincere. I should know. I don’t think I have ever smiled a smile that was any less than one hundred per cent insincere in all my life. But, this woman, her smile is so warm, so inviting, that you cannot help but melt in its presence when she flashes those pearly whites of hers as they shine between those gorgeous crimson lips.
All jokes and insinuations aside though. If you have not realised it by now, please, allow me to openly confess. This woman of unimaginable beauty of whom I have described to you just now; this woman Ms. Insert Last Name, she is you.
This is the way I see you Ms. Insert Last Name; this is the way I have always seen you. Now, believe me when I tell you I do not have an impeccable track record when it comes to emotions and feelings of the heart. I become so easily attracted to women; but even with this said, allow me to express that it is a rare occasion when I do indeed fall in love. Attractions come and go for me, but love; love is a luxury that is very rarely supplied. When this happens; when I irrefutably fall in love, there are only two methods that can be used to cure me. I know ‘cure’; a very odd word to use, but all forms of love I feel are like viruses, for they consume my heart and soul.
These cures include the two following scenarios; one, I have a relationship with the person I have fallen madly in love with, or option two; I discover beyond a reasonable doubt that no relationship could ever times infinity occur. However, with this said, I do not believe I am ready to move on just yet, for I am really enjoying the feeling that I have inside of me, regardless of how painful it is not to have you in my life.
Now, everything I have done in my life since gaining an awareness of your existence; every breath I have breathed, every step I have taken, every job I have gained, has not been for the money; it has not been for the experience or for anything of similar quality. It has simply been so I could share this one moment with you, and finally confess to you how I feel, and so that I could perhaps be the man you required when I eventually did so.
Now, I realise that what I have said this far, and what I am about to, no doubt sounds like the words of a man who is both delusional and deranged, but honestly, I just do not care.
I moreover realise that I do not know you; I do not know your likes, your personality, your hobbies; I do not know anything about you, but that still doesn’t change the way I feel.
Additionally, I know that I will never be able to touch you; to kiss you; or to experience a moment of happiness with you; but even with this said, no matter how absurd this sounds, the truth is that I love you. With all my heart Ms. Insert Last Name, I love you. I have loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you, and I fear I will always love you until this life of mine runs out.
Now, I understand, I truly do, if you are unable to feel the same way for me, and I realise that what I am feeling is no doubt a deranged infatuation. But I would like to think that I am old enough and mature enough to know what true love really feels like, and I know by the feelings I have when I look at you, and when I think about you, and when I dream about you, that I truly am in love with you. So, regardless if I am living in a fantasy world designed from dreams and hopes. Even if I am living a fabrication within my mind, I would much rather have this feeling, no matter how false it is, than not feel love at all; but if what I am feeling is not real love, then I do not know what is.
My question to you is this; why should I deny myself this feeling, just because it is a fake fantasy masquerading as reality within this heart of mine?
I apologise for any harm I have caused you with these words. I did not ever mean to hurt you with them. I only meant to confess to you my feelings, for it is said that one should always tell the person they love how they feel, and the person I love is you.
I realise that people in general are easily terrified by those who would confess such things. People never know what to say in such a situation, for romance is one of the most vulnerable points in the human heart. Love is cruel, but it can also be so kind. I only wish it would be kind on me, for it is love, or lack thereof, which shall eternally bar me from you. Perhaps this is for the better; better for you I mean. For with the exception of my unlimited affection, I do not know what else I have to offer you.
So, with much appreciation for reading my words; with much forgiveness for you for being unable to love me back; with much apologies for causing the harm that I have caused with my words; with much hope that one day I may be able to meet someone else that may take your place.
But until that moment comes, this young man will love you forever and always, and never will you ever be absent from this heart of mine.
Yours, forever and always,
Sincerely and with the warmest of regards,
Insert Name of your Admirer, with love
SYNOPSIS: A poem about being in love with a woman who already has a man in her life of whom she cherishes greatly.
Everyday I see you walking around
with the man who’s the new person in town.
You used to walk around with me sometimes,
yet today you seem completely sublime.
You don’t realise you’re the one I love,
your plane taking you places up above
and you probably won’t see me again,
wish I could tell you ‘you’re more than a friend’,
while I still continue to contemplate
will I always be the lover too late?
To me your beauty is extravagant,
throwing my mind into mismanagement.
I don’t know how I’m to decipher
the reasons why we’re not together;
you’re an addiction, my triumphant drug,
the reason for my undying love
while the true and real cause still eludes me
as I stare upon your wondrous body.
You have an angel’s face, a loving heart,
are we destined to always be apart?
There’s nobody else like you, you’re so rare,
yet you always seem to be everywhere.
I’d trade every single wish in the world
just to be with you, the most finest girl.
It feels you’re from my imagination,
your beauty has no classification.
I’m blinded by your hair and your beauty,
your perfect eyes are all I ever see.
Now what can I possibly do?
Everything I’ve always wanted is you.
Your image of wonderful purity
mixed in with your love and tranquility
makes me want you to forever be mine.
Although I am always running out of time,
will he continue to always be yours
or will I come in first place with applause?
In my eyes you are the perfect package
of whom I’d consider vowels of marriage
and I hope this is not the conclusion
as I live a lie and a delusion.
SYNOPSIS: Looks over a day in the life of two friends and the separate lives they live, and how everything could have turned out differently if but not for one single event.
This piece contains very explicit coarse language, sexual references and some disturbing themes.
I opened my eyes, the sun bathing my room in a vast ocean of light. Music posters lined the walls and used clothes were scattered randomly across the floor. I jerked the sheets from under me, my body crying out for rest. A sudden sexualised feeling came over me as I pulled down my pants. Grabbing hold of my growing penis I quickly began to masturbate, the feeling being extraordinarily intense as I groaned in pleasure.
To aid in the erection I thought of Ophelia, her body being both luscious and fantastical. Her permed blonde hair billowed across her face, her brilliant turquoise eyes staring back at me; her wet lips looking as moist as ever. Her tight jeans reflected her magnificent legs and fantastically formed arse; her short top revealing the snake tattoo imbedded permanently around her belly button.
I breathed a sigh of relief, semen rushing out from the tip of my penis, successfully accomplishing my erotic morning entertainment. Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself out of bed, dressing myself in appropriate casual wear for my university classes. Hurrying down the stairs to the kitchen, I gulped down my breakfast, bidding farewell my parents before briskly walking down to the train station.
Upon arriving, I wiped the sweat from my face as I stood with the other commuters, impatiently awaiting the train which was already three minutes late. My mind spontaneously turned to Camellia and as I thought of her I believed I saw her on the other side of the tracks as the train finally arrived. I clearly remembered what she had told me on her deathbed at the hospital that fateful night; two tubes connected to her nose, her bloodied appearance being far too overwhelming to believe. ‘I don’t care what it is you believe’ Camellia had said. ‘Just believe in her’ she managed, gesturing at Ophelia, before collapsing back into the bed.
It was these words that prevented me from being with Ophelia. She was beautiful, yes, but her beauty was simply to be admired, not taken advantage of. Besides, she didn’t see anything in me.
Escaping my delusional fantasy I boarded the train, the doors closing behind me.
I sat at the back of the psychology class; the lecturer arriving as I eagerly awaited for Ophelia. Upon arrival she looked exactly as I had imagined her in my wet dream as she sat beside me. Under the light, the piercings in her face were clearly visible, shining beautifully under the fluorescence.
‘Did I miss much?’ asked Ophelia, sounding a little out of breath.
‘No, it’s all bullshit anyway’, I grunted with a smirk which Ophelia returned.
‘Donald’s getting worse’ she finally said, looking a little afraid. ‘He hates me, I know it.’
‘Your father doesn’t hate you’ I shot back reassuringly. ‘Camellia’s death has been difficult for both of you. He is trying to cope with it, just as you are. All of these tattoos and piercings are your way of attempting to find yourself after such an ordeal.’
Ophelia sniffed as she took out her purse, opening it up to reveal an image of her and Camellia, the two of them looking exactly alike. With the exception that Camellia had a pink fluffy pair of rabbit ears atop her head. The image beside this was from their childhood. A skinny man sat in the centre, his broad smile being the most prominent feature. Seated on his lap were both his children, Ophelia wearing the rabbit ears in this photo.
‘It’s amazing how much things can change’ said Ophelia sadly as the lecturer interrupted our thoughts.
‘Happiness is one of the most powerful emotions of all. Go ahead, see how it feels by complimenting the person sitting beside you’ he said, as I rolled my eyes.
Ophelia turned to face me, looking deadly serious. ‘You’re a nice person’ I said awkwardly as Ophelia sniggered. I awaited my compliment, but before she had given it the lecturer began talking again, Ophelia becoming quite distant after that.
Sitting atop my bed in the late afternoon sun, my mind turned to Ophelia, believing she may have needed a little tenderness. Picking up the phone from my desk, I dialed the digits for her home phone, her mobile having being confiscated by her father after the tragic incident which claimed the life of his daughter. The phone rang continuously as I thought of hanging up, just as Donald’s pre-recorded voice came over the receiver.
‘Those fucking rabbit ears!’ he roared. ‘I can’t fucking stand them! They’re everywhere! I can’t remove them from my mind! Oh, but I will by fucken destroying the little fuckers!’ he cried out deviously, the line instantly going dead. Frozen in fear, I leapt from the bed and hurried out the door, racing towards Ophelia’s, fearing for her life as I traversed the darkening streets, sad and alone.
Upon arrival I sensed something was amiss. The entire house was pitch black, not a single trace of life originating from its eerie interior. I shuddered to myself as I navigated the disturbingly unkempt lawn, knocking on the wooden door which instantly swung open. I slowly walked on through, making my way into the lounge room tripping over something on the floor. As this occurred I threw out my hands to stop myself from falling, the carpet feeling drenched. I reached for the light and flicked it on, reeling at what I saw.
Donald lay on the floor, a revolver in his left hand. His entire body was covered in blood, the walls and floors the same. His head no longer looked like it once had, appearing to have being blown off by the gun blast as I found myself hyperventilating. What had Donald done? I ran for Ophelia’s room, which was completely vacant, hurrying back before pausing at the entrance of the bathroom, noticing some form of liquid on the floor. Turning on the light I felt my entire body sag, finding the floor covered in blood, hurrying for the bath where a body was located. I heard a whimpering from inside me as I threw my hands around Ophelia, her body having bled out from having each of her piercings and tattoos removed with a number of sharp instruments covering the floor. What had her father done I wondered, the word ‘no!’ escaping my lips, as I sobbed into her hair, feeling immense guilt for never revealing to her how I felt.
I awoke to Donald screaming. I quickly dressed and applied make-up, not wishing to further aggravate him as he appeared at my door.
‘What? Still not dressed you lazy cunt?’ he cried, holding a bottle of liqueur in his hands which he quickly finished, throwing it in my direction.
I ducked, the bottle shattering as it connected with the wall, pieces of glass flying across the room as Donald continued down the hall howling insanities. I noticed the rose tattoo on my leg and the piercings in my belly as I pulled up my jeans, grabbed my bag and hurried down the hall. I stopped outside my sister’s room where a pair of rabbit ears was placed atop a pedestal, an image of both of us smiling under it; one of our better moments. Avoiding my father, I raced out the door and hurried towards the bus that would take me to university.
I briskly walked into class and made my way over to Jared. Like always, he looked incredibly handsome as I sat beside him and began to quietly make conversation, beginning to feel life returning to my body once more. Upon mentioning the intense loathing my supposed father had for me, Jared burst into his usual sensitive drivel about how the both of us were attempting to find ourselves. I guess he didn’t realise that I had; I was exactly who I was meant to be.
Of all the people in the world I wished he would be the one to notice that as the lecturer before us broke through my thoughts, instructing us to complement one another.
I smiled, turning to Jared who looked a little taken aback as he turned to face me, his beautiful brown eyes looking directly into mine.
‘You’re a nice person’ he finally said, the words cutting through me like knives as I sniggered, attempting to hide the pain.
What I would have given to hear him tell me I was beautiful. To hear him say that he loved me, so much so in fact that he wished to take me outside and physically express it through non-stop frenetic, sexualised orgasmic activity. But no, he had completely rejected me as I became more and more distant from him with every second.
I lay on my bed that afternoon sobbing into my pillow, my black mascara running across my face. God I must have looked so pathetic, crying over some boy who I had had feelings for since the moment we had met. Donald’s sudden screaming brought me out of my stupor as I slowly made my way down the hall, finding him in the lounge room with the phone in one hand and a revolver in the other.
‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ he cried, brandishing the weapon at me as I backed away fearfully. ‘I have had it with the fucking rabbit ears and now, I remove them from my consciousness!’ Putting the gun to his head, he pulled the trigger. The effect was instantaneous. His head was completely mangled on impact, flakes of bloody facial tissue flying across the room, covering the walls as his body fell to the ground.
‘Well, it was bound to happen eventually’ I told myself, feeling a mixture of fear and contempt. Making my way to the bathroom I began to cry, tears streaming down my face, my entire body shaking. I thought of calling the police, but I knew deep down I was partly responsible for what had happened. Switching on the bathroom light I looked at my face in the mirror, before puking in the toilet bowel, wiping my face on a paper towel and staring back at my reflection. Neither Jared nor my father believed I was beautiful and if my sister were alive she too would have felt the same way. I looked at my reflection and saw a freak.
Loathed, rejected. I needed to be beautiful again.
I opened up the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a pair of tweezers, placing them on either side of my nose ring before ripping it out, blood flying across the mirror. The pain was excruciating, but I had to continue. I would not stop until I was beautiful once more, reaching my hand back into the cabinet and taking out a scalpel.
Lying in the bath, blood flowing around me, I lost consciousness, feeling contempt that I had achieved true beauty. I heard a door open, before hearing a cry of pain; noticing the shape of a person running to my side and embracing me. And as death took me, my last thoughts were of my sister.
She sat in the driver’s seat, the rain battering the windows on the dark, stormy night, the lights of passing motorists flying by.
‘Might I be able to borrow the rabbit ears?’ I asked from the passenger seat. She snorted.
‘No. They were mothers’. She would have wanted me to have them, especially since you killed her from being born last.’
I knew my sister was still affected by the booze we had over indulged on at the party, but I did not deserve such harsh treatment. ‘How can you say that to me?’ I cried.
‘Oh, fuck you!’ retorted Camellia as I felt an intense rage within me.
‘You know what Camellia, why don’t you just fucking die!’ I shouted as the truck came out of the shadows and plowed into us.