Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Salt in my wounds

There's men with eyes that move you, with this skin that you beg for, with hair that you want to get tangled in. 
The maybe he sings or tells stories so eloquently... Either way he is charismatic, he's even romantic. 
The way he touches your skin sends lightening through your whole body, the kisses that go from your head to your toes. Time seems to pause while you stare into each other's eyes and make love. There seems to be no greater euphoria. 
But sometimes..... The men I speak of have no soul or is it no heart? 
they have perfected to art of seduction. 
And when the next option is presented, which trust me... It will be presented because we live in the decade of tinder, constantly bombarded with the next best, or what we could have. 
He will walk away, but before he nimbly walks away 
He will touch your heart one more time, he will take it into his hands and with a smooth movement he will add another cut, He doesn't care because the whole time he's touching your face he has no idea he's actually just poured salt into the wound from the last man. 
He will try to sound soothing while telling you it's over. 
He's so enveloped in himself
He has no idea what love is.
For him right now it's filling the void that his upbringing left him with....
But I thinks that's what we are all doing.
So here I am, realizing I've been so blind all these years. Giving my heart, body, mind, and soul to men who are not capable of the same. 
I'll probably make this same damn mistake again, until it's a lesson learned🙏🏼
Here's to learning🍺
Here's to heart break🍺
And here's to being a silly romantic🍺