iris!

for every human, comes a dream… nonetheless… its only a dream!

Tazmanian Devil


The content of this topic is for readers above 16 years of age

She walked back into my life as if no one was ever hurt in her past departure. She talked to me as if nothing has ever happened wrong between us. She used to talk to me at the end of each night and sing to with her beautiful voice. For I love the women who can sing. I used to love to lie my ears of her chest and rest. For I loved the women with behemothic bosoms. She used to say words that would leave me lie down in bed in amorous behavior. My passion to her was within the weakness of being loved once but betrayed with the infection of departure.

Every word she said meant a lot to me, not anymore. Every bliss of speech she had was my glamour in my life. She used to give me the power to protect my self from being availed again. In our speech she spoke the words that drilled me with passion. She moaned for my love that she awaited me to speak of. But my answers were vague.

She asked relentlessly of my unfocused silence; “What is wrong with you?”. What is wrong with me? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!!! You really want to know what is wrong with me. You left me at the darkest days of my life telling me that I was wrong about some gesture that I never betrayed. You faulted me at all your mistakes. I always took the blame for everything just to make you happy and to save you the embarrassment with me. And why you would ever take it as an embarrassment if it was with me. You brushed off every date I offered for reasons that might of might have not been right. You absolved your errors with stories of your inadmissible marriage and your apocryphal stories of your injurious delirious mother that apparently have ruined your reason to exist. After all this, You really had no possible way to contact me once or to send me message in any possible way. I am not sorry or regretfully of the days I have spent with you I’m not denying its existence; but now I have learned.

Now nothing is the same. I fall in love with a women then attach my self to the materials that she is, for far lost than denied, touchable can be seen to remind you of emotions, sometimes your weaker than you expect your self to be. For now it would probably turn into lust. Words she spoke meant nothing to me, Sounds she made sounded stupid and unbearable and the existence of such intentions just made me feel guilty.

I told her what I was going through, but she turned around to tell me her problems. I need to be heard in this. I need to be noticed. Well not really! I really don’t care anymore.

I told her that I felt guilty. Guilty for thinking of giving her a chance, Guilty to my self and to the person a I fell for in this time apart. Guilty for I lost love that was everlasting, guilty for every moment have spent away from her with a smile. I fell for someone that will listen to me as much I listen to her. I fell for someone that killed me with a smile. I fell for someone that I have not attached to any material that I see. Who are you to compare with her. Who are you to walk back into my life and ask for a jester of my love to you as if who ever you hurt was as equal as who has ever just passed you by.

The possession of such emotions are impossible, not after all this.

World! I’m Out!

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