This one's also for my hun-bun.
It's the flipside, bitch.



Every morning that you wake
with a hard on and his name
on your lips and cum all over your...
Super Mario sheets,
just remember what you told him
when he asked if you would own him:
“Baby lamb, this lion's not one for tender meat”.

You're a fool, but you know that.
You could have had him in the sack,
but instead you pushed him out
with your hairy hobbit feet.

And I'll laugh and point and stare;
call you bland and unaware,
but in reality, I could thank you on my knees.
Cause after all is said and done,
and after all the clothing's gone...

I'll be the one shining his floor with my knees.



© MoodilyLit, 2011
palett: 100 Thank You's! :)

This one's inspired by and for lealpotter.
Darling, enjoy.



Why did I not hit that?
He was begging all the while he was with me.
He sauntered and he prowled,
but I did not see at all
for blind and idiotic I had been.

Penguin fur was all I'd see,
not the wolf in your smile
or the lion in your roar;
shoot me, for I was thicker than a boar.

But I see clearly now, now I see it all.
Not just your brilliance and your charm,
but your ass, thighs and arms
as you wrap them around him,
I see what could have been.

And as I lay here in my bed,
all alone save for my hand,
I tell myself once and again:
“It was better to have loved you,
even though I did not fuck you”.
But we both know that's just bullshit in the end.



© MoodilyLit, 2011
palett: Traditional Regret

So, today I woke up with 50 Cent's "In Da Club" stuck on my mind.
It was the "Hey shorty! It's yo birthday. We gonna party like -It's yo birthday!" over and over and over again.



And keeping up with the rap theme, I made this itty-bitty my bitch today!

-Moody

That second, the one right before you wake up, the one where dreams seam all the more vivid and real because they start blending in with our reality.

Do you know which one I mean?

That second where all your make believe feels like a memory that can be looked up in your diary or in your planner.

That second that is so precious, because as soon as you wake it starts rapidly slipping away, like fine sand through your fingers.

That second I feel more alive than all the other hours and minutes and spare seconds in the day. In that second I am happy, sometimes terrified, sometimes wishful or fulfilled or blue, but be as it may and feel what I feel, I feel it all the more intensely.

I wish I could live in that second forever, but I'd trade many things for it to last at least an hour.

I'd be an hour that would last for three, like taking a nap in the beach feels like sleeping for days. The vividness and clarity of my dream-hour would be like the mesmerizing sound of the waves upon my mind.

And if I should wake, and I hope that I will, I'll wake a different person, for I have dreamed my life in an hour.




© MoodilyLit, 2011

© MoodilyLit, 2010