Tenses (The Smoking Gun)

I laid there.  Reflecting on myself . On us. I was staring into the closed eyes of a mass murderer. I had invited the villain back into my home and now she lies in my bed.  I was afraid to close my eyes.  My car, fresh air, doors, my weapons, above all her face, her moans, and the void that was out love all reminded me of him.. them.  How something I meant so much too had copied and pasted that solidity in another man. Been with me through him and him through me.

I was used.

After chasing the devil down the halls of her womanhood got old. I resorted to watching him cower behind her eyes. I became a monster that even the devil had no choice but to bow down to. Numb, cold, heartless… I laid there and stared at the soul of the woman with the closed eyes and I was scared. I was scared by the nothingness I felt. The void. The ride was over and the spark had savagely clawed its way from our kisses scarring every part of my soul that it came in contact with. I stared and attempted to intentionally bring pain to myself, and it didn’t hurt anymore. It turned me on. Like I was watching 2 strangers go at it. Bring each other to ultimate ecstasy. I gripped, and I drifted with closed eyes, cold hands, warm ears and an erect penis.

 What happened next frightened me. I was surrounded by an audience and this woman’s eyes had opened and her soul was beautiful, her eyes even more so. She stood there like an exotic goddess. Her hair flowed at the winds slightest blow, she seemed to float instead of walk. I was intimidated by her beauty, but I  embraced it as my own. When she leaned out to touch my face I felt every positive emotion you can think of. I was overwhelmed and tears began to flow. I felt something. She made me feel something. She had become my Island of reality in what had become the constant sea of bullshit.

From her touch I had shared all my secrets and she shared hers. Not a word was spoken, but we went together. Flowed off the tongue like Barack Obama. Perfectly in tune with one another. The spectators watched in envy. Some in total awe as we had fallen victim to love at first sight, been soul mates, and got old and died together in one touch. She was all I ever dreamed. She completed my sentences and relieved my tenses. She was love in the human form to the 4^th power times infinity. Most of all she knew the severity of protecting my heart and accepted all of me.  And I…

 Well, I woke up. Sexually relieved and deeply frustrated that my dream had come to past. This woman was real, the realness of the tears on my cheek had reassured me of that. I had felt. The devil could taunt me no more. The knife in my back had become a part of me. As natural as the hair on my head. And for a moment someone had accepted me, knife and all.  And I accepted her. All the while staring into the soul of the woman with her eyes closed.

 A cold sweat had forced its way into my presence. A dream chaser. I wanted to live that dream.  To permanently be in the presence of that Angel. The cold bathroom floor had become a  suitable resting place, and my Springfield XD-9a suitable sleep aid. 2 pounds of trigger pressure had reunited me with my new love and left my neglector a smoking gun.

Tenses (Him and Her)

Him:

Shit, now my world is spinning and breathing is a lot harder. I must have pulled the shot. I can’t see from my right eye and the only real feeling I feel is my warm blood pooling under my nose.  All it takes is a quarter of an inch to drown. An explosive 9mm Hollowed round to my temple, and I lay here drowning in my own blood. I cant feel but I am sure the entire right side of my face is missing. Like a final fuck you from my god. I hear her screams, and now like an infant for his mother I want her to help me. Save me. She had done this to me. I saw the bathroom door cracked, but my body was pinned against it. In my mind I was screaming save me, but in reality all there was the sound of gurgling blood. Unable to move my face from this puddle of blood breathing had become impossible. I saw her. I made eye contact with her. I held her hand, regrouped and walked from the puddle of me.

Her:

 Shit, now my world is spinning. I felt him in a cold sweat I reached out to touch him and he jerked away from me. I retreated back into my ball on my side of the bed.  That had become my new normal. Keeping myself warm at night. I made this bed, and I love him, so I sleep in it. I felt him get out of bed and every follicle of my being wanted to pursue him, but every argument chased me back to that night. I tried everything to simply win his heart back.  I presented myself to him in every way a woman could. I cried during sex. God smiled at the pleasure he bought me, but I cried. I cried because I was making love to a man that was fucking the shit out of me. I didn’t follow him.

Him:

Look at her, now.  Crying, sobbing, and needing me. I had stared in her face holding the hand of my Angel. I smiled in her face. Revenge was sweet. What better way to let a person know they are dead to you than to present yourself dead to them.

Her:

I drifted back to the day I decided to let him in. I thought of how much he reminded me of my Soldier. He was slightly less attractive and lacked in the muscle department. But he strolled with the confidence of my man. The same  confidence I fell in love with. My soldier was deployed.  Our skype dates were lovely, but nothing could soothe my inhuman need to be held. And he was here. It started as a few dates, lead to sex, and eventually I was in lust. I could never love him. He filled a void.

Him:

I watched her sobbing on that round glass table. The same one I finished the bottles of wine they had intended to use for a nice evening in my home.  I was fresh off a plan from Camp Ramadi, Iraq.  I was surprising her with an early return home. I walked in to candles, and rose petals. How did she know? No one knew. I followed the petals to the room and sexy night wear was on the bed. Strawberry candles burning. She knows I hate that scent. And why are her clothes on the bed and not on her? Then the card  with her name on the front had bought me to that screeching halt.  I had read it, saw his name, and stared around this home. The overpriced price I had paid meant nothing.

Her:

I heard him load his gun, and I swear I never moved so fast. My screams at the bathroom door had went unanswered. What had I done?  I heard a bullet hit the ground, the magazine slammed back in and he cocked it, again. I fell to my knees and gathered just enough strength to pound on the door. I yelled “baby I love you” and “he meant nothing”.  I yelled a lot of things. My pleas went unanswered. I couldn’t explain myself. I was wrong. I threw the one thing I cared about the most to the sharks, and now I am sad because the outcome is irreversible.  He put light in my eyes and at one time I did his. My thoughts were drowned out with the sound of a god screaming.  It made my body move with speed and a strength out of this world. By the time I was to my feet the scream stopped. I heard a loud pop and a flash of lightening, simultaneously remembering it does not rain indoors. I kicked, pushed, rammed and screamed. I was going to save him. The blood on my foot granted me further strength,  and I knocked the door from the frame.  The ungodly sight of him watching me, staring through me like only he could. I swear his last breath sounded a lot like save me.

Him:

 She picked the old me off the ground and screamed for help. No one would hear her. Our closest neighbor lives a mile away. Her idea also, move to the middle of nowhere and live happily ever after. Right.  I watched her plead and bargain with her God.  I whispered in her ear “God can’t help you, now.” I was a monster with an Angel staring at my maker. Watching her physically and mentally fall apart, and it made me smile. She  paused as if she had heard my whisper and could see my smile.  I whispered in her ear once again. “A smoking gun is all that stands between us” Lyrics borrowed from a song I enjoyed.  I watched her face turn cold and her eyes go as black as the eyes of my old dead self.  I whispered in her hear “Do it. End it, and I will love you again” I was lying of course. I hated her. I was manipulating her. She heard me  and pried the gun from the hand of the old me. I remembered how easily swayed she was. I stood behind her, escorted her to the mirror placed my hand on top of her hand assisted her in the honors of ending a life she made miserable and while in her last moments of life she poetically crawled to my dead human body and died in my arms.  I spent the last moments of my spiritual existence reassuring her that I would see her in hell , and  proudly cut the tie of unfinished business that tied me to earth.

Time Check

3:33 am


I had worked my way into a zone.
My zone.
An intense zone.
Time slowed as the friction from her walls provided a personal message... to me.  I could feel the weight of my sweat on my shoulders, and each individual bead on my forehead. I had only wanted to become her.  Alcohol had impaired me and each scratch on my back fueled me. She would jerk back and I would push forward...

4:24pm


I was awakened from a sleep and a stranger had stood there before me. I was looking into the eyes of a woman that was looking into my soul. In that sleep induced intoxication. We had never met, had no past and she is an angel. She pulled her hair off her face and said something I couldn't quite make out. I had never saw her like this before. It was love at last sight and all of the ones that followed.

11:23pm


She slept so peacefully... In my eyes she glowed. A priceless work of art laid air drying in my bed. My sexdrive was kicked into overdrive but to touch her means to distort a masterpiece .. So instead I laid back, closed my eyes, and touche my.... self slowly. Muscle memory kicked in from my teenage years, and I was a professional at this again.  Visions of the morning before flashed. Me and her had become adult film stars and I was watching.

1:30am

She had buried herself in my masses. She felt so small surrounded in my muscles. She felt safe, and I felt strong.  Her steady breaths against my chest let me know she was relaxed. I had squeezed her tightly and died 1000 times.... I was in love. In love with a stanger that I had known for what had seemed like every day of my life. We had broken down and rebuilt again as one....

Long Story, Short

I caused unintentional, unnecessary pain to myself.  Some would say it was getting old, aging. All trials and tribulations of becoming wise. I'd lay there and only think of getting up with no true intentions of moving a muscle. That warm mist was striking my skin at something that resembled the touch of an angel. And that cool touch... The closet thing to an angel's touch I'd probably ever feel.  Yea, I was hurt. Like a crackhead taking a hit. I was hurt. But I was happy.
 Laying there staring in her deep brown eyes. Death take me away. My last breath would be spent professing my undying, unchanging love for her. Breathing her air I was happyhurt or hurthappy. My large hand secretley perched on her soft brown skin. I have a tough guy persona to keep up, but in this moment of what was a blissful weakness. I swallowed a lump and air dried a tear. The sight of the opposition of or skin had torn me. Opposites were attracting. Laws of science at work. The black man in me held firm and played tough never moving my hand. But the spanish seeped out  "la cosa mas hermos que he visto".
I let that moment take over me. Become consumed her all that was her being.  With this pain I am all that I am, and without it. I am nothing.  I stared at her with a sarcastic frown and joking words. "Leave me alone" meant "I love you so damn much and if I had to go a day without you I would die". Turn me into stone, Medusa. So I dont have to blink. Just stand here and let me look at you.
 In my mind I had asked her to excuse my forwardness and I mentally undressed her. I had caused intentional, necessary pain! I was happy, and I felt good! The warm mist, that was her breath had rested itself upon may face. Blessed me with its presence. I took in a breath of her air....

@iMisterX

Paint Me

I am the man in the painting. The one that has suddenly emerged from rock solid Earth with a ra of light shining down on my newly ripped chest. Strong from tunneling free from my captivity. Chest out and head up.  Seconds away from being completely free from the dark ground that has been my opressor. But first I have to bathe in this glory of my first moment of free air.
 People always want to stand at the top of the highest peak of the highest place on Earth and scream something inspiring like "I'm free" or "Thank you". We dont know what free is. What "living". We live so that other people can envy it. All the while not living for ourselves not enjoying what we want to enjoy.  Been captive for so long that we do not know what free is and if we were to ever be free. We wouldn't know it. Tonight I am taking that idea and putting it in a decorative box on the mantle next to my different personas and self change makeovers in the lowest darkest part of my heart's basement.
 I'm not free. I don't know what it is. Am I living the "life".  I will be the person to stand  on top of that high peake and scream "I don't fucking know" or "Can I get a sign". Or if im so free why the fuck did you paint me only half out the ground. Forever rendering me stuck in this ground. Enjoying temporary. What a cruel blessing. Paint me free. Paint me on that peak.

"I hope you recognize me"

I used to to feel so strong, I was foolish enough to believe I could shape oceans.

I used to feel so light. I thought I could walk across them.

I used to feel so light that it would have been a senseless act for darkness to show it's face.

I used to feel like the funniest man alive. Fuck faces, I made your heart smile.

I used to remember the smallest thing, like your birthmark and what it is shaped like.

I used to feel invincible

I used to feel free.

I used to feel your love.

I used to feel together our love intimidated everyone.

I used to feel we were a inspiration to new love, and a sweet memory worth a smile to old.

I used to feel timeless.

I used to feel like it was okay to get lost in your eyes, and find myself in your heart.

I used to...

I used to have the opinion formed that even my best wasn't enough, so I will always be better.


I used to be a fool, foolishly in love.

I used to be hopeless hopelessly in love.

I used to know you.

I'd hope you'd remember me.


I hope you would look at the monster and see the beauty.



-LOVEsoldier

LOVEsoldier

I was lost in being found some where in between Love and Insanity. Cruising at 150mph. I love her so much like crazy, she even tortures me in my solitude. A fuzzy screen in a clear mind. But me. I am Love's Soldier and my name..... is Love Soldier. I fight until even fighting is futile.
Love is pain, pain is war, and Love is war and I am a Soldier of it. A soldier for her. I face her greatest fears daily so she won't have to. Love is a soldier and it is a superior on my team. I am Love's Soldier.
Love betrayed me though. It's hard getting back to Love when your love has been betrayed. But I am Love's Soldier.
Half way through Insanity. Love whispered in my ear. "I dare you" I violently twist my throttle back and go a lot faster. Lights turn to blurs, bugs to paint balls, and rocks to bullets. Words into knives, and actions into guns. I think "I will win" I twist a little harder thinking control is so over-rated. Chaos is where I wanted to be. Controlled Chaos inside Love's war. I am Love's Soldier.
I just wanted to be her savior. Not to be a war hero. Just save her. From anything and everyone. 10 miles from Reality I confided in the speed and put all my fear in slowing down. I guess I was running. Love is a bitch with bad intentions. But to assault it is to break my promise to me my promise to the Corps of Love. So I embrace the oncoming death of me. The death of Love's Soldier.
I am Love's Soldier, but love changed up on me, chewed me up, swallowed me, pooped me out, and threw me against a wall. I still fought. Reaching Reality bought me to a sudden stop. From 260 to 0. Reality said to me " Love Soldier, a soldier knows no quit. A death is not glorious if you plan on hiding in it. No one will remember you. Believe in the contradiction of man. Love, Peace, Anarchy. Replace that love with you Love... Soldier. Be love, free love. Demand peace. Live your Anarchy, controlled chaos.
I was Love's Soldier. I am LOVEsoldier