The unbearable state of desire.

My name is forever tainted by the sound of your breath. It is in deep embrace with each moan that escapes your muffled lips.

My name has been tamed. Each time they call it, I throb in anticipation of your fingernails digging into my spine. Chain my vocal chords with strands of your hair, my voice quivers when I hear yours.

My skin has changed patterns and my veins realigned following the trace your touch has left lingering. I itch unwillingly, feeling phantom cravings from faded deliriums. Perhaps the worst is feeling you so close into my hips, swinging from side to side, teasing with your smile. Perhaps the worst is reaching out to grab you and collecting dust.

My soul is famished for the spark you send dripping down my neck each time your hand touches mine in the morning, almost aching from the sleepy absent mindfulness of the night. And in this turmoil of beautiful agony, I breathe you in, take all of you into me, as if it were the last time we meet.

Pink Diaries By Asher Moss.

Stray hearts°

You look at me with kind eyes that stretch into the horizon, and whisper words made from the melody of your heartbeats. You look at me with feelings that flow, pouring flowers from your lips and onto mine. You stay. And I push. And you stay. And I can’t breathe. Because I look at you with the sorrow of the words you’ll never mean. I look at you with blame for all the pain you will impose on my survival. I see you on my sheets, staining them with your scent that will curl up under my spine and unearth my lungs.

I look like a fresh Lilly with dew on my petals, waking up on a Sunday morning, with life sprouting in my veins. I seem like a drowsy drizzle on the edge of your window, pulling you from your soft slumber to come play under the willow tree.

But fundamentally and down to the core, I am a drenched log, expanding from all the humidity that has caused my heart to weigh me down. I am a leap of faith that has seized to comprehend distance and dimensions. I am a sentence of jumbled up words allocating letters to the sounds they don’t belong to.

Love, I trust your eyes, your lashes clutching to them like they’re what make you thrive.

Love, I believe in the air that blows through your ribs, bringing you closer together.

I just don’t trust the time that it took for you to fall, the same time it will take you to put on your coat and walk away.

Sundays are for lovers

With eyes half shut, and golden glows falling in cascade on your skin, I draw flowers sprouting from your spine. There are words that send me into a frenzy, and then there’s the sound of you breathing into this morning light. I see you wrapped up in sheets that don’t stand a chance to the softness of your touch and I wrap you up in arms that crave to get lost in you.

My dear, don’t get me wrong, I want you in all the glory of what that word  entitles… 

But when your chest rises and falls with such serenity, to the beat bursting through my veins, know that my walls crumble. And know that when I whisper I want you, it doesn’t just mean I want my skin against yours, it means I want to forget where my skin ends and yours begins.


In a world where flashing lights take over my mind, you are the voice of reason. You came into my life, with slow and steady caresses, implementing my molecules to a new surrounding. 

I am in anticipation of who you are, of how your whispers feel in my ear… I am in awe, in absolute awe over your smile; it brings my armor down to its childhood serenity. 

You say things like “the weather is lovely today” and all I hear is a melody of the wind drifting on the arch between your neck and shoulder… 

I’ll give you the thoughts in my head and what lies beneath; the breathe pumping in my veins and the echo of my heart… I’ll tell you stories about the monsters in my bed, and how I’d feel empty if they deserted me… And if you stay long enough, I’ll give you my open hand to draw the stained sheets of our love..

Rien que des mots

Alors que j’essaie de reprendre tous mes mots, avaler ce que j’ai déjà craché, je me retrouve avec les murs familiers d’un sentiment que je hais! Cet instant que je prie de détourner à chaque fois, et qui à chaque fois me prend en pleine face…

Un instant qui me reprend au moment où ma mère me fait la gueule parce que j’ai mis mes pieds sur la table dans le salon ; ce même jour d’un mardi matin où ma classe entière se foutait de moi parce que je ne savais résoudre une question de math au tableau ; la soirée où j’ai vomis pour la première fois parce que j’ai bu un verre de trop alors que tous ce que je voulais c’était qu’ils m’acceptent… ces instants où je voulais m’enterrer en place, m’effacer, me cacher derrière ce mur de conneries que j’ai bâties autour de moi…

Dans ce tourbillon de sarcasme et de rire, un vertige d’humiliation s’empare de mes mains et pieds… je ne veux pas être ici… laissez moi reprendre mes mots, mes pas, mon corps, mon espace… laissez moi cesser d’être, je vous en pris !

Je suis là, je conduis ma voiture, seule, avec un silence qui m’étouffe, une brise qui me refroidit et ma chair qui brule ! Mon cœur est lourd, mes doigts tremblent agrippés aux volant, ma gorge serrée, mes yeux vides !

Je me sens complètement ridicule et sotte !



Swirl into my mind and damage my senses, while I ache for everything that is you; I cling to your breath as if it were my own and enjoy every simple moment with you. My mind rumbles with enticing thoughts of our simple moments of pure insanity and I hide a smile; scared I’d be caught indulging yet again in one of our kisses.

In the dying leaves of my autumn heart you light up a fire to sooth my senses. And while I fly through a cloud, my fingertips almost touching the rain, I breathe in every bit of your smile.

“Swing my love til you’re drunk and happy,

Swing my dear til you’re drunk and free;

Ratle my bones and shake me

Turn me into a dark twisted fantasy.

Stop my heart from beating,

With a breath from your being;

Stitch me up and melt me down

A seed into the solid ground.

Rising above my own pettiness.

The hardest part of letting go of a grudge you’ve held on for so long, is realizing that you’ve been nesting it. When you stop giving yourself excuses and alibis for acting the way you do, for wasting so much energy on something, someone, that’s when the magic happens… and often, you just need someone to shake you and to simply ask you to “Snap out of it”

You see, there are fleeting moments in, life, beautiful moments that, to the wandering eye, may seem meaningless, but which in fact hold so much preciousness: sharing a glass of wine on the balcony or catching up with an old friend or even simply welcoming someone through the door… it’s such a waste to have little moments throughout your day tainted by so much anger.

Anger… what a feeling… it can drive the best of us to our own destruction, or motivate us and fuel our being and actions.
Either way, once anger settles, it becomes an inner monster leeching on your soul. When you let it out, shout, scream, break a couple of dishes, fall into sobs or simply paint it off; it slowly dissipates and filters out of your system. However, and this is when it becomes dangerous, when you let anger and frustration marinate within you and repress it, it eats your soul out, disfigures your heart, pops your veins, controls you movement. It becomes this black monster just waiting to destroy everything in its path…

It’s such a terrible thing when you let it get the best of you. Moreover, unless you snap this tight thread by its core, it will always keep resurfacing.

Grudges can last for so long. Sadly they linger especially between close ones, for when you feel such terrible emotions towards someone so dear and near, how do you find the courage- no the hearts- to tell them? To face them? How do you storm out on a beloved? When you’re feeling so hurt and betrayed, how do you share it? Do you show your wounds to those who hurt you the most?
And isn’t it a bit sad when those who supposedly love you the most, those who are the closest to you hurt you? Then again, it’s these people in fact and these only who have that power.

I guess it all balances out depending on how much you care and how indispensable this person is. Sacrifices must be made in all kinds of relationships. Question is, are they worth it?