Tag Archives | holding

I can feel a hot one

I could feel a hot one tak­ing me down
For a moment, I could feel the force
Faint­ed to the point of tears
And you were hold­ing on to make a point
What’s the point?

I’m but a clean man, sta­ble and alone man
Make it so I won’t have to try
The faces always stay the same
So I face the fact that I’m just fine
I said that I’m just fine

I remem­ber, head down,
After you had found out
Man­na is a hell of a drug
And I need a lit­tle more, I think
Because enough is nev­er quite enough
What’s enough?

I took it like a grown man cry­ing on the pave­ment
Hop­ing you would show your face
But I haven’t heard a thing you’ve said
In at least a cou­ple hun­dred days
What’d you say?

I was in the front seat, shak­ing it out
And I was ask­ing if you felt alright
I nev­er want to hear the truth
I want to hear your voice, it sound­ed fine
My voice, it sound­ed fine

I could feel my heart­beat tak­ing me down
And for the moment, I would sleep alright
Invad­ing with a self­ish fear
To keep me up anoth­er rest­less night
Anoth­er rest­less night

The blood was dry, it was sober
The feel­ing of audi­ble cracks
And I could tell it was over
From the cur­tains that hung from your neck

And I real­ized that then you were per­fect
And my teeth rip­ping out of my head
And it looked like a paint­ing I once knew
Back when my thoughts weren’t entire­ly intact

To pray for what I thought were angels
End­ed up being ambu­lances
And the Lord showed me dreams of my daugh­ter
She was cry­ing inside your stom­ach

And I felt love again

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Skating Rink

Skating Rink

Skat­ing rink, I love them, I hate them.

It was one of those days when I was at Pyra­mid Ice. I cap­tured this pic­ture with my iPhone, and thought the guy was pret­ty good look­ing.

I don’t know, but I have been always in the lik­ing for some­one that is younger than me. My friends say that I like them you, I guess.

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Holding hands

Holding Hands

One of the nice things in a rela­tion­ship is hold­ing hands.

I like to hold the boy’s hands. Whether is it in the car, or just gen­er­al­ly giv­ing him that brisk hug that he deserves.

Hold­ing hands to me is the kind of phys­i­cal inti­ma­cy that is the kind of expres­sion of feel­ings that I have for the boy. It gives the means of being present in that some­one’s per­son­al space. I hold hands with the boy, is because I want to share the things that he has, the per­son­al space.

Hold­ing hands sig­ni­fi­cates the affec­tion that I have to the boy.

Of recent, the boy has been avoid­ing hold­ing my hand. Not to say total­ly avoid, but rather, with lit­tle response when I try to hold his hand…

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