I wanted it to be you and you alone.

Your gaze, your ways, of saying all the right things at the right times.
Your sense of self that somehow made me feel myself; embrace me for all that I have been, will be, am now.
Your touch was unmatched even from day to day; when I thought that there would never be anything so good and certainly nothing better.
But then, tomorrow came and your hands would prove me wrong … again.
Trailing along journeys of love, of lust, of desire, of time.

I wanted it to be you and you alone.

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com.

Image: Sipo



I thought a lot of thoughts that day,
Before. Making. My. Decision.
Was it worth it? Did it matter?
And would you even care? Would today be the final notice, the last indicator of whatever used to be between us?

Or was there ever anything beyond what rested in my mind? In my heart? In my spirit? In my telling of the tale? Perhaps it was all fiction made up purely by a lustful body sending words to my head that never actually crossed my lips. That certainly were never real life?

There were so many thoughts thought that day that I nearly missed the moment. The moment provided to us by fate? By happenstance? By the universe hurling us ever toward one another?

Is it toward or is that too a place that I have designed because of the seemingly insatiable need to be where you are? Perhaps it is apart? Apart is where all things eventually end right? No matter what is said, what is heard, what is felt? There is always the end?

I thought a lot of thoughts that day. Before. Making. My. Decision.

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com

Image: Alexander Butler



You have escaped my grasp far more times than I ever thought I could get so close to possessing you. You have become the story I tell myself on lonely nights and endless days. An indelible part of my life that somehow I crave and despise all at once. It seems so unlikely that I would have fallen for your lines. Yet, there you are crashing through my dreams and here I am wishing hoping wanting lusting begging working struggling to make you mine. Doing whatever I can manage in order to ensnare you. But perhaps that is the problem really. Striving to take possession of a thing that is meant only to be held briefly, let go, and chased once more — ultimately leads to trouble.

And so, again, I am chasing after you.

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com

Photo: DesktopNexus