Till the day I die

Please don't cry
For the ghost and the storm outside Will not invade this sacred shrine Nor infiltrate your mind
My life down I shall lie
If the bogey-man should try
To play tricks on your sacred mind
To tease, torment, and tantalise
Wavering shadows loom
A piano plays in an empty room
There'll be blood on the cleaver tonight
And when darknesss lifts and the room is bright
I'll still be by your side
For you are all that matters And I'll love you to till the day I die There never need be longing in your eyes
As long as the hand that rocks the cradle is mine
Ceiling shadows shimmy by
And when the wardrobe towers like a beast of prey
There's sadness in your beautiful eyes
Oh, your untouched, unsoiled, wonderous eyes
My life down I shall lie
Should restless spirits try To play tricks on your sacred mind I once had a child, and it saved my life
And I never even asked his name I just looked into his wondrous eyes And said : "never never never again"
And all too soon I did return Just like a moth to a flame
So rattle my bones all over the stones I'm only a beggar-man whom nobody owns
Oh, see how words as old as sin Fit me like a glove
I'm here and here I'll stay
Together we lie, together we pray There never need be longing in your eyes
As long as the hand that rocks the cradle is mine
Mine Climb up on my knee, sonny boy Although you're only three, sonny boy You're - you're mine And your mother she just never knew
Oh, your mother ... As long ... as long ... as long I did my best for her I did my best for her.

Blush

Dear Joan,

Sometimes your laughter, so sharply sweet-icicles bathed in raw, warm honey-twirls up and palms the back of my throat, caressing those twitching cords. And I cannot speak (merely momentary).

It is like this, a catch of cold breath just behind the uvula, and subsequent sigh of relief as one bravely exhales-that defines our love. After this fickle see-saw of days gone by, you and I are WE. And I am in awe. Of you. Of us. Of the world through those piercingly peaceful eyes.

Cheers,

To love.

To laughter.

To finding something incandescent in every little thing.

To us, dollface.

I am proud of your patience, and would be nowhere without the constant expectation of your arms, around me always, sometime soon.

Happy anniversary, you’re the champion of my all.

Love,

Joan

Men

They hail you as their morning star

Because you are the way you are.

If you return the sentiment,

They'll try to make you different;

And once they have you, safe and sound,

They want to change you all around.

You moods and ways they put a curse on;

They'd make of you another person.

They cannot let you go your gait;

They influence and educate

They'd alter all that they admired.

They make me sick, they make me tired.

Dreams

Dear John,



Now here you go again
You say you want your freedom
Well, who am I to keep you down?
It's only right that you should
Play the way you feel it

But listen carefully to the sound
Of your loneliness
Like a heartbeat drives you mad
In the stillness of remembering
What you had
And what you lost...
And what you had...
And what you lost

(Oooooh)

Oh, thunder only happens when it's raining
Players only love you when they're playing
Say, women...they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean, you'll know
You'll know

Now here I go again, I see, the crystal visions
I keep my visions to myself
It's only me
Who wants to wrap around your dreams and...
Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?
Dreams of loneliness...
Like a heartbeat drives you mad...
In the stillness of remembering
What you had
And what you lost...
What you had...
Ooh, what you lost

Pasta dinner

Dear John,

We work together, so it's weird. But I secretly like you because of your designer trousers and the hole in your left sock. You stuck by my side all night and I can't help but think it's because you secretly like me back. I know you don't smoke, and I do but it's fun anyway.

Srsly

Dear Joan,

Is it so hard to adore me and don't question my mistakes?

See me for what I really am, PERFECT

Love,
John

Egg

Dear Chicken,

Inexperience and a pinch of aloof are no longer an excuse for hurting ones feelings. I feel trapped in a box you conceal somewhere between your heart and your genitals. My brief appearance in your life will continue to go unknown according to your actions.

Night Time

You mean that much to me
And it's hard to show
Gets hectic inside of me
When you go
Can I confess these things
To you
Well I don't know
Embedded in my chest
And it
Hurts to hold

I couldn't spill my heart
My eyes gleam looking in from the dark
I walk out in stormy weather
Hold my words, keep us together
Steady walking but bound to trip
Should release but just tighten my grip

Night time
Sympathize
I've been working on
White lies
So I'll tell the truth
I'll give it up to you
And when the day come
It will have all been fun
We'll talk about it soon

And I couldn't spill my heart
My eyes gleam
Looking in from the dark
I walk out in stormy weather
Hope my words keep us together
Steady walking but bound to trip
Should release but just tighten my grip

Night time
Sympathize
I've been working on
White lies
So I'll tell the truth
I'll give it up to you
And when the day come
It will have all been fun
We'll talk about it soon

Not much

Dear John,

Is it really too much to ask to put your penis only in me? C'mon Really?

Baby I Miss You

Dear Johnny,

Castle in the Cloud

Dear John,

You always make me feel better. I forget everything else when I hear your voice, I don't think about how everything seems like its falling apart. You and I, we're just going to end up being two confused and overly complicated old people together- but that's just how we are.

Gutted

Dear John,

I am dying inside. I'm trying to play it cool but really- I am absolutely gutted.

Always

Dear Joan,

You are my beautiful baby. I was heartless and inexcusable. But you forgave me. And now you reach for my hand. When I remember what I almost lost, I swear my heart beats in reverse.

My dreams are spent dancing with you. My days spent aching to come home to you. I long to wake to your laugh, your skin, and your curls underneath my lips.

I think I learned to love because of you.

I love and miss you always,

Joan

Found

Yes. Totally... tenderly... tragically.

Dear John,

We watch movies from beginning to end now. We agreed that the bed needs one more pillow, so that we both can arrange them to our liking. I no longer have a garage because paying rent for a parking space I never used was no longer relevant. You still dance for me, and I still sing you silly songs. You still bring my enchiladas for lunch, although I probably don't make them as often as you'd like. But now I don't need to write letters addressed to someone else to tell you that I love you, not since that night you wrapped your arms around me, as an '80's cover band played a song by Poison behind us, and screamed, "I don't know if I should say this yet, but I'm falling madly in love you." (Which, oddly enough, happened the night I wrote that letter about watching your pupils engorge themselves with beautiful blackness.) Now, I say "I love you" everyday. And now, you come with me to take out the recycling.

Love, me

Yes, you should ask.

Dear Joany,

I'm bored of the games and the weird confusions. I'm tired of not knowing whether to make the move. I'm confused as to how you would take it. Last week in my room I wanted to strip you slowly and peel your dress away inch by beautiful inch. You know who I am and how I would love you. You know my name and my number that eagerly waits.

Just lately you see me and I'm not being my self.
I'm quiet and boring as I don't know how to act. I know it's difficult with our myriad relationships but I want you so badly. I don't care the consequence. Let me know, should I make a move? Should I dare to ask? I want you in my bed.

Blind

Dear John(s),

I've really learned my lesson this time.

I wanted to trust you. I wanted to believe that you wouldn't ever compromise my happiness for your own selfish desires. I gave you the unwavering benefit of the doubt despite that ever morsel of my intuition was pointing in the other direction. I realize now that I've been really blind. I don't know how I ever thought that you were over it and that somehow this would never be an issue. Well, I was wrong. I was really wrong. And you want to know what's worse? I think you were even more delusional than I was. You were manipulative without even knowing it. To think about all the things you said, and more importantly did not say, when he talked to you about this. You couldn't just have asked to not be part of it like you did with me. Intentional or not, it's irrelevant.

And the sad truth is that now you've lost my trust, and what the hell is friendship without trust? It's nothing, it's a broken shadow, it's fake smiles, it's sleeping with one eye open. I can't do that. I won't.

You both are going to realize that you each of you made some pretty selfish decisions, and it'll be too late. You can have each other.

I'm gone, but I will always always land on my feet.

This is the last time I am blind.

Come back to bed

Dear Joan,

Come back to my bed.

Hold me close, don't turn your back just hold me.
Spank me, tease me, bite me and stroke me.
Take me apart, use your tongue, use my tongue.
Cup me, cuddle me, confuse me and control me.

Just come back to my bed and this time don't turn your back.

So true

An easy life I would lead without you, Johns.

Poland meets Croydon

Dear John,

Weeks and I know you entirely. You are the poster child for marijuana. You have weird hair and a completely disheveled wardrobe. I don’t understand most words you say. You work only to play. You have been at least an hour late for every one of our dates. But somehow, John, you possess so much more than any other John. You are proficient in showing your adoration. You shower me with seemingly ordinary gifts like a bag of fruit or a page ripped from an old book. You take me to your favorite grassy oasis rather than a pretentious restaurant. You live as though sunshine is consistently beaming upon you, and I yearn for your energy. If only I could apprehend my ambivalence, I would be yours wholly; but I’m distracted by the John who cannot extend his love beyond the ocean and the John who’s afraid to fight. I’m distracted by the John I think may be dead and the John I wish would wake up.

To my cockroach ex-wife

best of craigslist > chicago > To my cockroach ex-wife

Date: 2009-08-11, 5:02AM CDT

Dear Whore of Lucifer:

I have recently enrolled in a 12-step program for people whose lives were decimated and finances ruined by lawyer bills when their spouses filed for divorce after finding someone else to fuck and run off with. I am currently up to Step 8: Willingness to Make Amends. As such, I apologize for the following recent transgressions:

Told the drunk at the bar who wanted a Red-Headed Slut that he's more than welcome to you if that general contractor douchebag is done with you.

Annoyed the staff at several hospitals by calling to see if they had any fresh organ donors on hand with a heart suitable to replace your cold, dead one.

Demanded a refund from Southwest Airlines because I tried to get you on one of their planes but they refused to let my bag fly free as advertised in their TV commercials.

Scrawled your cell number in the stall of the john of the bar at the American Legion post down the street with an offer of free prostate exams for all veterans 65 and older.

Told my neighborhood U.S. Marine Corps recruiter that I knew the exact location of the dank, hopeless cave Osama Bin Laden was hiding in and provided the GPS coordinates to your pants.

Lit several offering candles at your church with prayers that karma would hurry its ass up and come around to you while I was still alive to see it.

For these things, my dear handmaiden of Satan, I make my amends. I'd still love to see your head squeezed in a vice until your eyeballs squirt out of their sockets, but I have to go along with the program.

it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1317051655

Tight around the thighs

Dear Joan

I just want to fuck you so badly.

Every time you walk into a room your mere presence drives me insane with wanting. When I sit and watch your gently curved, pouting lips all I can do is imagine them tasting me, tasting you. It would lead to so many questions and heartache and yet more confusion but seeing you in that dress cinched tight around your thighs just confirms what I've always known...

Signals

Dear Joans,

I really do have a problem reading your signals. Are you even sending any signals?

I'd love to go swimming with the shark or drinking in the hay but I just don't know, I really don't know.

If only one Joan could just grab me and show me I would very much appreciate it.

Decision

dear john,

where are we at? where do we stand? aren't you tired of this weird merry go round?no more games, no more crazy talk, no more useless complications...so here it goes. i want you for my own every damn moment of the day, i want to feel you close to me in the morning and even closer at night, i want to laugh with you until we grow old and then laugh some more, i want to run through the house with you and play backgammon on the front porch, i want to lay naked in the sun with you and act silly with no care in the world, i want to lose myself completely in you until you lose yourself completely in me...
i love you john...

I think about you.

Dear John,

I know that we don't know each other well but I think you're a really weird kind of guy. You ignore me when I'm walking behind you, you stand next to me but don't acknowledge I'm there, you don't talk to me directly but you keep me within your line of vision. You make me feel strange and you're attractive to me. I think about you a lot. I think about the red string between us and how you've remained in the outskirts of my life for a couple years. I have really vivid dreams about you. We're always sitting in a green chair that I have in my room.

I shouldn't bother following you around town but I bet I will. The beginning of winter is sort of boring and sad. Seeing you out and about is some dull pain I'm after. You can keep me at an arm's length under a lovely grey canopy of clouds. I'll leave a trail of thin seeds and sighs.

Bye,

Joan

Sideways

Dear John,

Its only been a month, but I am convinced that you are the worst thing to have possibly happened to me, but I like your beard, and I think you’re pretty cool. Still, there is no excuse for you. Yes, I am seeing a man or two and I am not condoning it, but at least they are aware of my slight issue with “relationships.” You. You are dating someone I believe is talented, beautiful, and gracious. I think you should be with her, and I think you’ll one day think so too.

Fill you up

Other side of the ocean

Dear John,

You have been mine since last year. You are wild and passionate. Yet, your passion does not span the ocean that divides us. You do not possess the ability to love from a distance. I keep waiting for your moment of clarity: The moment when you outwardly declare, “I’m in love with this woman, and I will not let her slip away no matter the circumstances!” Albeit, we both know this will never occur and it’s truly a shame. You say you will be waiting for me, but will you still love me in December?

Rejection

Dear Johns,

Why can't you just love me back?

princess warrior

dear john,

i didn't want to break up with you and i thought i made that very clear. i wasn't even considering it until you stopped responding to my messages, which contained threats. when someone is very far away, when someone is surrounded by mountains and rivers, when someone has big hills of learning around them, when someone is you and i want to hear and feel you, well, sometimes i go a mite crazy.
i considered how the word neglect would feel in my mouth. i saw how deeply i was being neglected and i let you in on that thought by sharply pointing out how nothing is ever enough - not ever. it really isn't. i will always believe that you'll leave. i will always assume that you have ulterior motives. i will always guess about the other girls you're interested in and these ideas will displease me and maybe ruin any fun for awhile. i thought you knew it was your job to convince me otherwise or at least keep me occupied enough, keep all my tiny, dark demons at bay. instead, you left me. you gave me all the room and space to freak out. you hardly responded when i said, "i can't believe you're doing this to us." for that, i feel very hurt by you. no matter how many words you have to share on your blistering brain, i do not understand that kind of backing-off after so many shared secrets and moments and aches and dreams. you would leave me for days to just wonder what i'd done.
so, it happened, like falling into a pit. i plopped a heavy suggestion into your lap and you didn't seem to disagree, not as much as i needed you to. you said, "ok." you said, "i don't want you to suffer," and accepted the new situation like a season change, like the death of a pet. you cried and it was part of the weird life that has befallen you, but i didn't want that. i wanted you to say, "no way, stranger." i wanted you to say, "how could you? i won't allow this." i wanted you to express to me that we had far too many plans, that we were much too much in love, that you would do anything. i know this makes me underhanded; i know this is all slightly off.
then, you called me war-like but i was actually a zombie. i didn't leave my bed all day. i didn't brush my teeth. it was halloween and i didn't go anywhere but deep into my sheets to sob and have headaches and whimpering. i didn't want to break up, you see. i missed it somehow because in all actuality, my feelings for you were as strong as ever and even more raw. there we were holding hands in the woods. there we were smoking on a balcony. there we were eating granola bars in the car, talking about things we didn't really understand. there we were in bed and you were all around me. there we were crying at the train station. there we were on the sidewalk when i apologized for hanging on you and you said you really didn't mind and i felt some flowers bloom inside me. maybe i apologized again later, just to hear you repeat yourself.
now we've decided to "try," because it's "better." i do believe it's better to try. we talk and we communicate and you're trying very hard to be regular and i want to thank you but it wouldn't be like flowers blooming, so i don't. it's very sad that i ruined everything, that i made our condition a sham. it's very sad that i'm so prone to losing touch with my rational mind and lashing out and it's very sad that you're so gentle with me and easy to lose among mean and mixed messages.

i didn't want to break up. i love you more than ever,
me

Breakup

Dear John,

I probably didn't want you anyway.

Coward

Dear John,

I fear that you love me too much.

xx,
Jane

Misnomer

Dear John,

You were supposed to be my knight in shining armor, the cherry on top of my everything, the wind beneath my wings.

You so failed.

P.S. I hate your band.

I'm on fire

Hey little girl is your daddy home
Did he go away and leave you all alone
I got a bad desire
I'm on fire

Tell me now baby is he good to you
Can he do to you the things that I do
I can take you higher
I'm on fire

Sometimes it's like someone took a knife baby
Edgy and dull and cut a six-inch valley
Through the middle of my soul

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet
And a freight train running through the
Middle of my head
Only you can cool my desire
I'm on fire

Desire

dear joaaan,

i only just met you but i know that i want to do bad bad good things to you.

i want to eat up every inch of you.

slowly.

methodically.

with my eyes closed and senses open.

to taste.

touch and feel.

your scent.

to hear every move, every twist and turn.

i will do

i will be anything you want.

Arizona

Dear John,

I want to be your light. I want to be your sky.

definition

dear john,

you're my boyfriend, and i want you to be as such. but honestly, i'm not sure you even like me that much. i want to know if you love me and it's a hard thing to ask out loud. maybe because the answer could be no and that's about the last thing someone wants to hear.

i guess it's about me deciding what defines a relationship to me and in turn what i want from you going forward. one of the things i most appreciate about you is how independent you are as it gives me the space i need to live my life for myself, yet i cannot deny that i do want to be in this together. you as you- me as me, each with our own ways of living, defined by our own interests and desires. but i know that i do want to be in something emotionally intimate with passion, deep respect and holistic love for one another. and you remain a mystery to me most of the time, you don't share yourself with me. i don't even know you, boyfriend.

A Little too Late

Dear Joan,

Sometimes I get sad thinking about how we were on the way to having it all!! The perfect relationship... I miss our happy times sooo much. And I miss you as a person, a confidant and a friend. I hope to see you again. Talking with you is so easy and I usually like your perspective. Let's get together sometime ....no head games intended!

Love Sick

Dear Joan,

The way you look at me, the way you speak, the stories you tell the secrets you keep. I love you. I love yours, you and now mine. Your body pressing against mine as if it was meant to, it was made for me. I was made for you. I want to reflect all the tenderness and light shinning from your eyes, your mouth your hands.

Sign, Love Sick.

Friendly Benefits

Dear John,

I know we've been completely non-sexual friends for years, but seriously- sometimes I just really want to fuck you. There I said it.

lumberjack

dear john,

you are my favorite lumberjack..... cupboard...... duet..... caller of wolves..... humble peasant..... kite..... broken window..... velocity..... single malt..... jungle..... mirror..... morning coffee..... storyteller..... black hole..... puzzle.....

Postmark: Newport, July 3, 1819

Ask yourself my love whether you are not very cruel to have so entrammelled me, so destroyed my freedom. Will you confess this in the Letter you must write immediately, and do all you can to console me in it—make it rich as a draught of poppies to intoxicate me—write the softest words and kiss them that I may at least touch my lips where yours have been. For myself I know not how to express my devotion to so fair a form: I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair. I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days—three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain. But however selfish I may feel, I am sure I could never act selfishly: as I told you a day or two before I left Hampstead, I will never return to London if my Fate does not turn up Pam or at least a Court-card. Though I could centre my Happiness in you, I cannot expect to engross your heart so entirely—indeed if I thought you felt as much for me as I do for you at this moment I do not think I could restrain myself from seeing you again tomorrow for the delight of one embrace.

But no—I must live upon hope and Chance. In case of the worst that can happen, I shall still love you—but what hatred shall I have for another!

(no subject)

dear joan

i wish you knew what i know
i wish you loved how i loved
i wish you were here right now
i wish...

AMR

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh… And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

3 am Eternal

Dear Joan,

Your beautiful smile lights up my world and makes me feel alive.
Holding your hand makes me warm inside. Thanks for being you x

Secret Thrill

Dear Joan,

I feel like your secret thrill that no one else is allowed to see.
No record shall exist and everything will be denied yet my love for you just grows and swells.

When our eyes meet and connect in the way that they do we are the only people who see it but I feel the electricity deep inside me.
It's as if we're making love with sight, enjoying foreplay in a flutter.

I try to remain calm keeping the burdens of others lies and loves buried where you cannot see or have chosen to ignore them.
You are my secret thrill.
The girl that I adore.

Lay down Love

Dear Joan,

One kiss
one touch
is all I need

your hand in
mine to hold me close
my cold heart swells

the river lights
the midnight bells
your beauty grows

i lay you down
and gently kiss
the face i love.

The back burner

Dear John,

I'm sorry that I string you along, put you on the back burner and reel you back when convenient. I don't know why I do it.

Breathing rapture

Oh, love is shaped like cities burning,
Soot and ash is stretched between
The sea and sky; these lonely islands
Kiss the buildings, black and silent.
Here my eyes look towards the brightest
Point of light, like some great sign.
And know the love--
I was reminded of the time I almost died.
But do remind you close your eyelids,
See the fine good colors that are left behind
Like flaming fingers tracing lines.
Oh, love is shaped like cities burning,
Sifting through the ashes after.
We will find your life in laughter,
Oh, the black and breathing rapture.

A few words from John

Dear Joan,

Thank you for the helpful and informative advice in regards to the precise location of your clitoris. I hope that all of those years I spent searching around the "bottom" were not too uncomfortable for you.... I'll try and do better.

In response, however, let me submit to you the following pieces of advice.

1) Hand Jobs -- I've been practicing these. A lot. If we're not in seventh grade and you give me more than 4 pumps.... I'm rolling my eyes at you. Oh, I understand that "you're really good at them" and "have a special technique" but bottom line: unless you're a Thai masseuse that's been averaging a bakers-dozen per day -- a hand job is a mans job. Thanks.

2) Blow Jobs -- Yes, that feels good. Yes, I like it. Quit asking. When I tell you "just like that" or "don't stop" -- pay attention! Rhythm and a positive attitude will get us both over that mountain. Spit or swallow? I'm not particular but I am giving you some advance notice so you can choose a route.... and... finishing me off with your hand isn't in my playbook. Remember the attention I showed you with my tongue only moments before you began the return? When that big O started I didn't reduce my efforts to merely my digits and you shouldn't either. See #1 if you're confused.

3) Sex -- You're going to think this sounds selfish but... I'm going to be selfish. I think you should be, too. Sure, it's a main concern that you get yours before I get mine... but... I can only do so much. Tell me what you need from me. Be honest with what you want. Faking is only going send us both marching in dizzy circles. I can take a little instruction, I can take a little playful rubbing, and I can take a little aggressiveness. You already know that I'm going to finish this race... I hope you know that it's all the more sweeter when you're right there with me. Too difficult? Sigh. You might be hopeless.


Love always,

John

Just Sayin'

To all the Johns out there,

Take note. Your first priority while visiting, make sure you know just where the Clitorious is. Once located you can pretty much get away with anything, tell it funny jokes, your favorite color... oh and do give plenty of kisses etc.

Come home

Dear John,

I'm waiting here on this glowing golden velvet. Waiting. Waiting for you to come. To see your face through the rain. I sit here silently. Excitedly. Smiling by myself with warm thoughts. And anxious flutters. Even after all this time, after all our long days together. This is what it is to feel, to embrace love.