Saturday, May 5, 2012

Unwritten Diaries - JT #1

J.T. I don’t shout it from the rooftops. I don’t let anyone see. It’s because I don’t want anyone to know. I keep you for myself. I’ve been close to you. Close enough to smell you. It makes my head spin. All these insane celebrity stalkers that send crazy emails or park outside someone’s home. That’s not me. That will never be me. I’m smarter than that. I keep you for myself. Feel free to come into my home. You’ll find the usual. Couch. Television. Dining room ensemble. There are no banners on the walls, no shrine of your pictures. My computer won’t yield endless Google searches for you. Everything is as it should be. You’re out of my league. Beyond my reach. Untouchable. And for all my smarts, all these useless fucking brains, I still want to be near you. I know it makes no sense. I know it’s irrational. That doesn’t stop the want. I want to bury my hands in your hair and press my lips to your forehead. I want to breathe in until my lungs burst. Breathe so deep it makes me dizzy. I want to run my hands over your shoulders and down your arms. I want to lift your hands to my mouth and kiss each fingertip. I want to wrap my hands around your ribcage and pin you to the wall with my body. I want to feel you press back with desire. I want to taste the salt from your neck. I want to feel the rush of your breath on my shoulder. I want to hear the moment your heart derails your brain. I want to see your eyes when you finally confess how long you’ve loved me. I want you to see me. Not the me everyone sees. The plain, drab shell. The awkward shuffle. The me I’ve buried. The me I only want to share with you. All this tension, and madness. I’m left with aching dreams and a hollow heart. Everyone looks right at me and never sees. Buried treasure in plain sight. Maybe today we’ll brush fingers as I hand you your coffee on set. I’ll stare at your shoes, feigning shyness. I’ll never raise my eyes until you ask. I’m afraid they would betray my soul. Can’t have that. It’s because I don’t want anyone to know. I keep you for myself.


  1. The resonance with this is overwhelming. We've all had this pleasure and anyone who says otherwise is a fucking liar. The description is spot on for such immense desire. Tickles the brain to read this - in such a good way.