We're just two cold hearts, that speak nothing but a dark language.
A language so discreet and distant, yet we lingered for each others touch.
As much as I want to forget, I can't... it's as if my temporal lobes seem to have permanently engrave these series of memories we shared. Our sporadic enticements seem to question me more as time progressively goes by.
The inane part is that we've never had the impulse to expressively talk about it. Our secretive personalities took its toll on us. I'm just too reserved and hard to read when it comes to being affectionate. I can't help it, but it's who I am.
In the back of our minds we'll always remember our amorous moments. However, we're both reluctant to admit it. Instead we'll have our tantalizing rendezvous at peculiar times of the month.
Is it weird enough I would prefer a heartless dark language instead of becoming an adherent to love?
So, tonight I'll sit and think to myself why a person like him could mean so much to me in a pessimistic way. For the most part, I can't even stand the whole situation. I want to end this once and for all, but a little voice inside my head refuses me to do so.
I know it's not love. I haven't really learned to love yet.
Maybe it's just an addiction.
He's become a drug to me.
A drug I swore to myself I'd never consume.
Nevertheless, temptation got the best of me and won.
I surrendered to its infidelities.
I mean, it’s only just a memory.
No big deal or anything.
It'll wash away and annihilate itself as time passes by...
... Right?...
