What is it that makes you so captivating? I can’t keep my hands off of you. Submit to me: rise again. How many times will you tolerate being pushed down and stretched thin? No matter; my warmth will bring you back. Show me your golden form and I’ll show you mine. This is my body: you are His. Thou shalt bruise his heel. I’ll cut yours off. Watch me break you—consume you—while my family sings praises. I brought you into this world, and God commands I take you out of it.

Missing you is so embarrassing. We’ve never even touched. But I looked you in your face once, and I now wish I’d never turned away. Maybe it was the nerves. I tend to be quite shy around strangers, believe it or not.
Are we still strangers if I think about you all the time? Why don’t you call me anymore? I wonder if polka dot rain boots will keep me from you again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? See you soon.

On May 5, 2015, you laid your head in my lap at three in the morning and cried for an hour. It has been weeks since my last load of laundry, and longer since I've brushed my hair. Playing the piano, but only to feel my fingertips hit the keys. All you have to do is exist.  No one looks up to stargaze anymore, but I almost crashed my car, craning my neck to catch a glimpse. What does God do when He gets sad? Nothing says "I love you" like forgetting about me. My last breath is nearing. All you have to do is exist. My writing has no structure because that's how it is in my head, only louder. Remember when I showed up at your house and we cried on the floor with your dog (you helped me more than I did you)? Seize the day so hard it snaps. All you have to do is exist. I went to therapy, but all I got was a story about Native American pottery copied onto a piece of wrinkled printer paper. All you have to do is exist.  Please don't become a dentist. All you have to do is exist.  It's just so hard to love when you're not alive inside. All you have to do is exist. All you have to do is exist. All you have to do is exist.

I don't mean to write about you. Kind of in the same way I don't mean to stay in bed until evening or avoid calls from my mother or miss meals or cry through a night or two. I just do. I'm sure the sun doesn't mean to burn and the leaves don't mean to fall and the flowers don't mean to wilt and winter doesn't mean to freeze. They just do.

Run your fingers up my leg until my lungs are sore from holding my breath. Tug my hair just enough to raise my head, get my attention. Hold my thigh so you can feel the chills I get from your breath on my neck. Trace my lips with your thumb until my mouth waters. Wrap your hand around my throat; don't grasp, just hold me tight. Feed me your thoughts using only your eyes. Explore me until you find your favorite part. Stay awhile.

You miss the softness of my skin;
The texture of my hair;
The taste of my lips;
I know what "I miss you" means.

You love the curve of my hips
The kiss on your neck;
The hands on your chest;
I know what "I love you" means.

I’m always waiting for something, always looking for something. It’s the reason I look into rooms with their lights off and drive down streets that aren’t taking me where I’m trying to go. You confuse me. I never know who I’m going to get. Guards up. Tell me I'm the prettiest girl you've ever seen. Ignore me. *** me up and throw me away. Who do you think you are? Who do you think I am?