Moochie’s Meandering Missives (and a pic or two)

Without

Without touching
I was felt.

Without proximity
I was held.

Without a mirror
I was reflected.

Without reason
I was hopeful

Without words
I was expressed

Without sight
I was able to navigate

Without hearing
I was moved

Without thought
I was cognizant

Without you
I was lost

Without looking
You found me.

attachment.php
 

Attachments

  • E9C88427-72BC-42CC-B60B-29B596120C9E.jpg
    E9C88427-72BC-42CC-B60B-29B596120C9E.jpg
    51.7 KB · Views: 29
Without touching
I was felt.

Without proximity
I was held.

Without a mirror
I was reflected.

Without reason
I was hopeful

Without words
I was expressed

Without sight
I was able to navigate

Without hearing
I was moved

Without thought
I was cognizant

Without you
I was lost

Without looking
You found me.

attachment.php

Love the picture...love the prose!!! :rose::rose::rose:
 
Without touching
I was felt.

Without proximity
I was held.

Without a mirror
I was reflected.

Without reason
I was hopeful

Without words
I was expressed

Without sight
I was able to navigate

Without hearing
I was moved

Without thought
I was cognizant

Without you
I was lost

Without looking
You found me.

http://forum.literotica.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=2069525&stc=1&d=1556128922

He knows how to find you any time during the day or night.

Nice after shower pic, little bow in your damp hair, and I like the use of the mirror.
 
Without

Your prose is a mini masterpiece, does it flow from you seamlessly, or do you delete and replace as you compose?
 
Without

Your prose is a mini masterpiece, does it flow from you seamlessly, or do you delete and replace as you compose?

This particular piece actually started with a version of the last two lines first (Without looking, I was found). From there the rest started flowing out of me. I realized when I read it through once completed that I needed to put that verse at the end and change it how I did to set it apart as the most important.

Thank you for the thought-provoking questions. I enjoy answering them.
 
Without touching
I was felt.

Without proximity
I was held.

Without a mirror
I was reflected.

Without reason
I was hopeful

Without words
I was expressed

Without sight
I was able to navigate

Without hearing
I was moved

Without thought
I was cognizant

Without you
I was lost

Without looking
You found me.

attachment.php

I know these words are not meant for me, but these words certainly evoke some sense of feeling from me. You are so beautiful in every way.
((HUGGLES))
:kiss::rose:
 
Thank you for the thought-provoking questions.

Don't encourage me! your writing is so enigmatic,and sometimes a bit dark, I hope it is not a reflection of your life: although am I right in thinking your prose is recently a bit more upbeat.
 
All a lie

I stopped
silent in front of you
even when you slid the locks into place
even when you turned the fitting key
even when you dismissed any thought of our future
or maybe, was that me?

I couldn't
watching you from such a distance
even when you rowed the boat
even when you set the sail
even when you pushed me overboard
were we always meant to fail?

I bleed
for what we could have been
even when you were bottling rage
even when you were screaming to be free
even when you were crying into the phone
did you ever love me?
 
Last edited:
Thank you for the thought-provoking questions.

Don't encourage me! your writing is so enigmatic,and sometimes a bit dark, I hope it is not a reflection of your life: although am I right in thinking your prose is recently a bit more upbeat.

I have been more upbeat. And often my writing is a reflection of me... so I hope it’s not too off putting.
 
And often my writing is a reflection of me.

No one could accuse you of being one dimensional, and your photos are evocative.
 
Last edited:
And often my writing is a reflection of me.

No one could accuse you of being one dimensional, and your photos are evocative.

I often worry that I am unoriginal. That perhaps I am so boring, so impossibly dull that one dimensional would be interesting. Then I am reassured that it is not the fact that I am mundane that keeps people from getting to know me, but that I am the opposite which seems to intimidate.
 
I stopped
silent in front of you
even when you slid the locks into place
even when you turned the fitting key
even when you dismissed any thought of our future
or maybe, was that me?

I couldn't
watching you from such a distance
even when you rowed the boat
even when you set the sail
even when you pushed me overboard
were we always meant to fail?

I bleed
for what we could have been
even when you were bottling rage
even when you were screaming to be free
even when you were crying into the phone
did you ever love me?

No matter how I feel when I read your prose, I always want to just hold you in my arms and hug/cuddle with you. Sometimes I want to make you feel better, sometimes it's to make me feel better, sometimes it is in a very loving and endearing manner and even sometimes it is in the manner of a lover. Somehow these words almost makes me feel all of them
((HUGGLES))
:kiss::heart:
 
I found out today
That you’re gone.
That you decided to take your life
Or maybe it was an accidental overdose
Either way,
When I heard
I wracked my brain to remember
The last time I had seen you
Or talked to you.

I think it was your best friend’s birthday party.
She invited me even though we had just broke up
Because you came out to me
And I wasn’t a good beard
And felt socially inept about the concept.

We had a brief conversation about punch and soda
I remember you telling me that punch with sherbet in it was blasphemous.
I didn’t and still don’t agree with you
Even though we will never argue talking points again
I liked to debate with you.

I heard you became quite the writer
But only published a few things
That I read.
They’re really good
And your unique voice shines in them.

It’s strange
To think about you gone
And that if I go back home
For a class reunion
Or a football game
Or something stupid
That would bring us all back to the same town
You’ll never show up
In the faces of the crowd again.
 
I found out today
That you’re gone.
That you decided to take your life
Or maybe it was an accidental overdose
Either way,
When I heard
I wracked my brain to remember
The last time I had seen you
Or talked to you.

I think it was your best friend’s birthday party.
She invited me even though we had just broke up
Because you came out to me
And I wasn’t a good beard
And felt socially inept about the concept.

We had a brief conversation about punch and soda
I remember you telling me that punch with sherbet in it was blasphemous.
I didn’t and still don’t agree with you
Even though we will never argue talking points again
I liked to debate with you.

I heard you became quite the writer
But only published a few things
That I read.
They’re really good
And your unique voice shines in them.

It’s strange
To think about you gone
And that if I go back home
For a class reunion
Or a football game
Or something stupid
That would bring us all back to the same town
You’ll never show up
In the faces of the crowd again.
I’m really sorry for your loss.

I’ve been that low pretty recently. Posts like this sometimes help create more distance between thought and action. So thanks for being brave enough to share this x
 
I found out today
That you’re gone.
That you decided to take your life
Or maybe it was an accidental overdose
Either way,
When I heard
I wracked my brain to remember
The last time I had seen you
Or talked to you.

I think it was your best friend’s birthday party.
She invited me even though we had just broke up
Because you came out to me
And I wasn’t a good beard
And felt socially inept about the concept.

We had a brief conversation about punch and soda
I remember you telling me that punch with sherbet in it was blasphemous.
I didn’t and still don’t agree with you
Even though we will never argue talking points again
I liked to debate with you.

I heard you became quite the writer
But only published a few things
That I read.
They’re really good
And your unique voice shines in them.

It’s strange
To think about you gone
And that if I go back home
For a class reunion
Or a football game
Or something stupid
That would bring us all back to the same town
You’ll never show up
In the faces of the crowd again.

😭😭😭

Moochie... this definitely hit me hard.
Having lost a cousin due to someone drugging her drink to an OD level, and having my brother from another mother take his life on New Year's Day morning this year... This is speaks to me in so many ways.

I wish I could hug you so much right now.
((HUGGLES))
:heart::rose::heart::rose:
 
Without touching
I was felt.

Without proximity
I was held.

Without a mirror
I was reflected.

Without reason
I was hopeful

Without words
I was expressed

Without sight
I was able to navigate

Without hearing
I was moved

Without thought
I was cognizant

Without you
I was lost

Without looking
You found me.

attachment.php

I love your uncompromising rawness, I love your words and the images of course, combined they always provoke thought. Keep on being honest you :rose:

PS....this I think is my favourite post of the week.
 
I found out today
That you’re gone.
That you decided to take your life
Or maybe it was an accidental overdose
Either way,
When I heard
I wracked my brain to remember
The last time I had seen you
Or talked to you.

I think it was your best friend’s birthday party.
She invited me even though we had just broke up
Because you came out to me
And I wasn’t a good beard
And felt socially inept about the concept.

We had a brief conversation about punch and soda
I remember you telling me that punch with sherbet in it was blasphemous.
I didn’t and still don’t agree with you
Even though we will never argue talking points again
I liked to debate with you.

I heard you became quite the writer
But only published a few things
That I read.
They’re really good
And your unique voice shines in them.

It’s strange
To think about you gone
And that if I go back home
For a class reunion
Or a football game
Or something stupid
That would bring us all back to the same town
You’ll never show up
In the faces of the crowd again.

It’s never nice when someone you knew and interacted with has died, even if they are not a regular contact.

Thank you for sharing.
 
Antici...

Awake with the feeling
Rapid heart rate
White knuckles grip the wheel
Slowing for unknown curves
Morning light
Hitting darkened glasses
Tinted windows
The rush
The need
To be there again
And not knowing
What awaits
When you arrive
It is always a little different
A little more
A lot more is given
Taken
And pieces leave with the other
As you lay awake
Thinking about the next thing
Planning the unknown
Trying to order what you can of the chaos
With so much inability
And your mouth moist and dry simultaneously
Sweat running down your spine
Sitting with churning stomach
And a hunger unfathomable
 
...pation

That hunger is for it all

attachment.php
 

Attachments

  • 9C7A27FE-42F2-47F7-B218-AE79C38D0AFB.jpg
    9C7A27FE-42F2-47F7-B218-AE79C38D0AFB.jpg
    17.1 KB · Views: 47
Overheard this as it
Played at one point
In His car today
Driving down a backwoods gravel road
For the items
We need to tick off a list
Still having some left to find
We also were there
For a plethora of things
Said wordlessly between us.

I can’t stop smiling
Or shaking
And there’s so much more
To say on the topics of
Hands feeling
Bodies moving
Lips pressing
Tongues dancing
And that underlying, indescribable, amazing thing
That makes
Us.

And again.


Soon.
 
Back
Top