Move my hair from my shoulders,
and slide your fingers down my neck.
Lean in and kiss me softly where it curves.
Keep your hands moving while mine find their
way to your belt.
I want you to push me against the wall and
kiss me hard because it hurts.
Kiss me hard because I'll make you.
Lose control with me because order is
I want you to laugh with me because I wont
unbutton your pants with ease, and my
bra will be an obstacle to get through.
I want you to fuck me.
I want you to bite your way down my stomach
and only keep going if I beg.
I'll make you do the same only after I'm satisfied.
I want you breathless in my bed.
I want you to let me pull you into the shower,
and let me bathe you with my mouth.
I sing the body unhinged.
Where the very tips of your fingers encounter
my soft edges.
Where your rough ones become my coffin.
scratch and scream uncontrollably.
Your body is perverse against mine and I
I am enticed.
You've educated my
lust and turned my instincts
The hunt is over,
There doesn't exist
a more bitter reminder
than seeing your bedroom
window light up
from across the street.
Showing a silhouette that isn't
Your mother visits your room
every night now,
she sits at your desk from where
you used to flicker the bedroom
lights to catch my attention.
She cries awhile.
I do too.
There's not enough alcohol in the world
to fill the void you've left.
Your silence holds enough torture
in itself to remain nameless and
beyond anything explored.
Only I know -
I've mapped it out in several pages.
See here this is the route to loneliness,
and over there is the path to depression,
above you is the surest way to madness,
and below is quickest way to lose hope.
But I, too, have mapped out the curve on
your bottom lip that I never kissed
and always admired,
and below that
a chin that connected finely to the jaw bones
chiseled by God himself.
Your soft palms that sprouted out to five
different ways in which you could have touched me.
Five ways in which I could have held on to you.
I should have.
But I was so stupid then.
Talk to me about research I'm ignorant of,
tell me what you think of it
and then ask me about it to
make sure I'm listening.
Keep me on my toes with intelligence,
I'll be sure to repay you with the equivalent.
Flirtation can be the best weapon if you
know how to make the conversation
Do it with me.
It's only when you can fuck me
without laying a hand on me,
that I will ever fantasize about
really surrendering myself
He said it's only a risk if we're scared,
they asked him what they called it
if fear wasn't present.
These are the kind of thoughts that I feel like I need to swallow
because they're on a level of pathetic that I can't even admit to myself.
It's that level of pathetic that really makes a person naked.
The pathetic that makes a person feel feeble when/if exposed.
It's the pathetic that springs fear in a person
at the very thought of exposure.
The deep dark corners of a persons being.
It's the trigger of the first tear.
And it all boils down to you.
Your simple acknowledgment of self
Your self-awareness kills me because
it makes you closer to realizing
that you can do better than me.
And then what do I do
with this epic love I feel for you?
We don’t ask the questions we want to ask
out of fear of the answer,
or of the lie.
“Would you miss me if I went away?”
“How much do you love me?”
“Would you visit my grave?”
“ And If I died,
would you cry?”
Release yourself from all that baggage,
and forget about all that has been.
Because in life you run
and you’ll always think you’re too young.
It’s too soon
to move out
to have doubt
for car accidents
for all your money to be spent
for drug abuse
to be stressed
to contemplate suicide
to feel this low
but life doesn’t think so.
I could speak as passionately about life
the way you do about God.
You raise your arms and with tears glistening,
you open your mouth and say you too have felt at odds.
That life has never handed you evens.
But given you a life you couldn’t even breathe in.
You clench your fists and say you were saved
and you scream that letting go of hate
is the only way –
preach that it’s our fate.
Tell them it’s not a sin, you said.
tell them the lights not so dim
tell them the odds aren’t so slim
tell them to raise their chins
tell them it’s not the color of their skin
tell them is not the sexuality within
tell them they can win.
And I believe you.
Don’t ever get cocky.
Don’t you dare say you’re the sun of her life.
Don’t ever consider yourself the
gravity that keeps her grounded.
Because she’s honest with herself,
and knows that she’s not your entire world.
Only part of it.
Do the same.
She’s aware you have different lives and
knows that it’s because of this that she keeps
herself on her toes.
Because it’s never a guarantee,
effort is always a requirement.
Don't get comfortable with her like that.
Don't be so sure she’ll be around forever.
Don’t slack off because you think she loves you
so much that you can.
“The chase” in the beginning
should never reach an end.
And if it has,
Challenge each other.
The simple fact that we’re humans
that have thoughts you’ll never hear
and emotions we’ll never show
is reason enough to
stay on those toes.
The human life is a curious thing.
And what makes us,
is as fleeting as it’s brought.
And those moments?
we're all of them.
And we carry each one,
everywhere we go.
is filled with them.
And every night,
is a funeral.
For the memories
and the moments
that will never repeat.
Sit in bed
the continuity of time.
And that insomnia,
is simply the inability to
I listen, and read, and write
and think and think and think
Uncomfortably is good,
it no longer feels distant.
It feels like I'm close to knowing
and the discomfort is nerves.
A sign for it to know it's me
it needs to touch.
A sound it may follow to
a small price.
The lack of sleep
But would you believe that this is my reality?
Unwilling to offer an ounce of hospitality,
In the highest of quality.
I wish I could end this peacefully,
but for me,
there's no such thing.
I'm uncomfortable, and that's a good thing.
Could you imagine what horrors being static could bring?
The chase after peace -
The only thing more real than peace is chaos.
Make it work for you.
Smash a mirror.
Its still you.
You look better that way.
You look -
I feel the wind in my hair
and I'm flying over landscapes,
You're telling me about the trees
and animals that lived there alongside bee's
when the earth shone in the absence of humanity,
You speak fondly about the fresh scent of pine,
and the very first time
you jumped up to fly,
you said it was divine.
And it was.
But now it's not,
I asked you where you've been
and you said you forgot.
You expect me to rot,
these are feelings I can't block
and I miss you,
but it's clear that you do not.
"God I hope i'm not wrong or
doing anything bad by writing
to you directly.
Jesus is cool but
in prayers it just seems like
I hope you're everything
I hope you are.
I hope that doesn't insult you.
I've heard some pretty awful things.
I hope you're kind, and understanding,
lighthearted but fierce.
Like a Dumbledore of sorts.
I hope you're the one that's
making me sleepy and I hope I can
hug you one day.
I'll make sure to write more poetry
and create beauty as often as I can.
Shield me from these bad thoughts
and protect me
because I'm weak.
Because you're every ounce of strength
I could ever hope to have."
"If you could throw a switch and
randomly kill half the population
on earth, would you do it?"
"what if you were told that if you didn't
throw that switch right now, the human race
would be extinct in the next hundred years?
Would you throw it then?"
If you say that we do not have the right
to deny life to any living thing.
Preach that our rights end where the rights
of the other person, or being, begin.
Then how could one even consider flipping the switch?
and yet by NOT flipping the switch
are we not STILL denying humanity the right to live?
I've tossed away the only thing I'm good at.
I'm not what was,
I am what is and what is
is suppose to be better than that which is no longer.
I sit here clutching my chest because
the urgency to become is simply far too great
to lay to rest and indulge in nights sleep.
I wont say I'll feel better tomorrow,
nor will I dare declare that I will rise with answers.
But I will rise.
Far beyond the bed I rest tonight.
So anxious I'm jumpy,
Internally deflated and still hoping.
So disappointed I don't want to care.
But if you came calling I'd still answer
in a heart beat.
Today while I was at work I saw a little girl grab some candy from the shelf and shake it in front of her mom to make sure she didn't forget to buy it. As she inched closer to the counter where I was scanning all of the items all I could see were the little girls eyes and the hands that hung on to the edge of the counter. She was so tiny and was still holding the candy in her hand, so excited and just…free.
I don’t know why that made me so nauseous but all I knew was that this little girl was given a handful of years on this earth just like me. In that instant all I really wanted to do was stop time for this little girl that I knew absolutely nothing about and give her that opportunity to enjoy her candy bar to the very last crumb and let her lick the left-over smudged chocolate on her small fingers.
...and you know she did enjoy it, I didn't need to stop time for her to manage that. As kids we don’t really have that extreme perception of time and maybe that’s what so beautiful about childhood and also what’s so tragic about later days.
What amazes me is that I thought all of this in a matter of seconds and I grew to appreciate that little girl and she will never know this, I will never see that girl again and by the time she left PartyCity I found myself hoping that her life will be everything she wants it to be.
Love is a recycled word,
used and resused in time and again.
Love like so is that of a chliche,
brief and ultimately unfelt.
It is through its brevity that
we discover that it is all but
what it says it is.
Love is instead chaotic,
that which blurred lines
between affection and hatred
fuse into one and engulf you whole.
No one understands this more
than the veteran lover.
Whose heart has been broken and
torn and kissed together all over again.
This is loves sweet embrace.
It is vicious, passionate, understanding,
and complete insanity.
It is the turmoil that can give us purpose.
It is that which we shouldn't live without.
And I surrender to it.
We're under the same sky
and it rains tonight.
Had I ever met you,
I'd wonder if it's lulling you to sleep.
Or keeping you awake.
tossing bed sheets to the ground
because it's hot.
Regretting it soon after
because you need a warm embrace.
Waking up in a heap of pillows,
covers and socks the next humid morning.
Forgetting to wash your face as you
You don't even bother to lock the door.