Not to be trusted...

I am the kind of girl that trusts. I do trust people. I love human kind even if they've proved me, and still do, that i shouldn't be so blind. At least not in matters that have to deal with my emotions. At least not in issues that are able to hurt my insides. Well, if there are any insides left, i do trust, but only through time.  And it hurts even more when after that time passes, they prove you wrong.
I am the kind of girl that some times people trust. Sometimes people don't enjoy just using her, and look at her cute cover, but all they want is to give to that girl their hearts, their insides, and discover her mind and soul as well. Probably, too early, but they do.
Many times i have proved all those people wrong. They shouldn't trust me. Not as fast as they did anyway. I have quite too many examples of that kind of people that joined my life the last couple of months and i hurt them. And not just a little scratches, i can assure you.
Most of them, i really wanted to keep them in my life. Some of them, i felt some strong emotions for. Very few of them i still got communication. But to none of them i can say that i reacted the way it would be fair to react. I feel guilty, and that i hadn't been fare.
I don't know what I want, and I have to figure it out fast enough not to hurt anyone further... I need time. But not too much. Not too little. I need to get to know someone before we get to the "feelings" part of the story. And I need to get to the "feelings" part just in the moment you have actually some memories with the other person, and you have started to get to know each other.
I guess i am confused. But so were they...

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Calling touch...

Calling touch and then we are moving...
And the moving went along in the rhythm of the music. Yes. It's dancing how they call it. But it felt more like he took me to this trip, that only birds that fly can go. His wings took my heart, his arms took my mind, a dance like a theatrical play without actors, but just our elegant selves naked of regrets.
And then, there was a date. A date you could never translate it the right way. There was no date, it was just us. Lots of magic dust flowing around us. There was this chocolate taste, like drug, inspired our souls. The air smell like candy. We heard a song.
Cultures, languages, lips, breaths. It all mixed up under a moonlight of tenderness.
You know how it feels? It's almost like safe love. Like it could ever exist such a thing.
Dreams. Trust. Fairytales. It was a messy whisper inside my head, between lust and desire, connection and emotions. Grabbing. Biting. Scratching. Flawless eye contact that drives you crazy in a deeper sinful madness of the leader, just because you go on following the same insane steps. Wrong or right, would it matter? No conclusion, just a vision of a deja vu.

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Romantikή άνoiξη....

Μία σύνθεση ύπαρξης πολύχρωμη, ευπροσάρμοστη. Δειλά ρομαντική. Πως αλλιώς θα ντυνόταν το μεσαίωνα αν δεν πασπάλιζαν παπαρούνες τα μάγουλά της. Και πέταλα γιασεμιού να σκόρπαγε στο κοίταγμα του έρωτα.
Έρωτα λέω. Και ύστερα σωπαίνω για ένα ξάφνιασμα ειλικρίνιας στα μάτια. Δύο σταγόνες έκπληξης μες τη σιωπή. Και ο αντίλλαλος της, τη φέρνει σε άβολη θέση. Κι όλο και ανθίζουν οι παπαρούνες.
Ξάπλωσε η άνοιξη στο πίσω κάθισμα του αυτοκινήτου. Κοίταξα στα χρώματα και είδα τ'άρωμά σου.
Δεν υπάρχεις στον αιθέρα του κόσμου μου ακόμα. Έρχεσαι...

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