Tones of SelfA Story by heido
Listen closely, this isn't going to be told to you again, and I hope for the sake of anything worth loving, that you get what I mean, when I say I hate you in the most lovely of ways. I despise the curls of your hair and the smile you extend like a lovers arms. I hate the sounds of your laughter as well as your concerned voice, when I've gone to far.
The ways I hate thee are the ways I love thee, and if I could count them I would be endlessly in lists of love. Oh great life, far less than what one would need to efficiently express myself, my womanhood, my desire. My being as I am, and you being what I wish to hold as I am. Hope? Perhaps. Passion, blinding and hot? Of course. I am needlessly turned about, just as I thought I was safely beneath.
So love, lover, sweet divine experience. I say again, in the most affectionate tones of self, I hate you in the most lovely of ways.
It's a scary thing to realise through you that love and hate can be of the same source. A great and profound, almost sinful desire. As my heart and mind are taken in turns to your sweet ways of being in my life, my body can begin to ache, suttle and anew. The days are getting shorter, simply because I am enjoying them ever more now that your stepping through them with me. I am overwhelmed with gracious warmth, your a lovely addition to an unlovely life.
You must not of course confuse the fondness, the care, the concern I extend, that I call love with a grandios Romeo and Juliet type love. It is quite simply a want to be nearer to someone so much of myself, that I may continue to discover myself, which I imagine is the aim of any logical love. A testament to the relationship thus far.
© 2010 heido
Added on January 12, 2010
Last Updated on January 14, 2010
AboutI'm a little on the neurotic side, and you may think I know exactly how this goes but I can assure your following the lost. I couldn't find my way, so I made my own, which isn't right but it's all I.. more..
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