"How did you know where to find me?" She whispered, her voice
cracking under her tears.

"I followed the maps you left in my heart, and I let my feet carry me to you, because I belong to you the way the stars belong in the sky." He said, holding her.

She nodded and more tears rolled off her chin.

"My darling, our stars, the very stars inside of us, go together like the sun and the moon. And I want nothing more than to be by your side, always."

In this moment, she knew she could never again wander away from his embrace.

The moon poured over the
       moors
                     and the night-birds
howled                through the wind.
The stars shuddered in their
midnight sky                  and whispered his
name amongst themselves.

He could do nothing but swallow
his tears in her memory.

I lay here before you,
              u n d o n e.
And it is my greatest fear.
        And it is my greatest desire.
Oh, my darling, set my
soul
      on fire.
How I have waited for this moment, how I have yearned to be so close to you.
For you to be so close to me,
for you to see
       me
in nothing
but the      pale light of the
moon.

Every breath, a weight
on my chest, reluctantly
comes, being chased
only by my
quickening pulse.
A knife slips between
my ribs and with
every word that passes over my lips, it
twists.
A silent scream is trapped
behind my teeth.
Butterflies with knives
are cutting up
my insides.


Found poem from Automatic Loveletter's song "Butterflies"

I'm the kind of girl who burns through guy friends like rubber on tiers, like sulfur on matches, like gasoline and kerosine and flameward moths.
But I don't want to burn through you.
We just go together so well—like puzzle pieces.
You and I are like day and night, sun and moon.
If you only knew how it eats me up inside, keeping my cool.
I feel this tiny spark dancing in my heart and it threatens to rake my body in flames, ready to pounce on me, licking and biting at the first sign that I'm falling for you.  
I'm really trying to hold my fuse right now, but one second we're joking and laughing and in the next you say something that tugs at me and I feel my hold on it slipping.
If I don't burn you first, this fire in my bones will certainly consume me.

"Oh God," she says, hands clasped together, fingers entwined, knees bent.  
He doesn't answer; /he does.
/he answers with earnest, continued, devoted worship,
head bowed, eyes closed, his mind devoid of all else but this
—this soul-shaking, earth-shattering pleasure, this blessed communion between man and woman,
the Holy Spirit an undoubted ****** through the candlelight,
this holy practice wherein they do some of their finest praying.

I was the sea and you were the whaler.
You cast your harpoon into my waters.
It never did catch a whale.
But you caught me time and time again.

It was rather beautiful the way
he put her insecurities to sleep.
The way he dove into her eyes
and chased away her fears
the way a tail chases it's
comet across a pitch-black sky.
Her eyes became a galaxy and
he could see the dreams she kept
coiled beneath her bones.

Between silken sheets we let all of the golden clocks fall over the edge of our world.
There, we kissed and kissed until we could measure time only by the rise and fall of our broken breaths and knew no other taste
than the light in each others bones.

To lay with my head on your lap, was all I ever really wanted do.                                                              ­                                                                 ­                                                 
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­        A place where I can be safe.                                                            ­                                                                 ­                                                    A place where I can be warm.      
                                                     ­                                                                 ­                                                  Somewhere I can let every care float away from my mind.

When I am with you, even breathing has a sweetness, to it, that I can't begin to describe.

Of course, I’m afraid of being lonely,
but I don’t fear being alone.
Solitude brings its own kind
of freedom, but I don’t want to be left
alone with myself for too long.

You always tell me of the
e l e c t r i c i t y
coiled in your bones, and
how I put it there.
But my dear, you are one to talk,
for you've got me
burning like the wire in
lightbulbs.

You look in the mirror and see nothing but remorse, I look at you
and see bones and stardust.

She sang with a beauty that made the sun shine brighter with every tune that floated up to the sky.
But one day she stopped singing.
A strange little boy told her, that no one gave a single **** about her little ditties.

She didn't cry.

She simply stopped singing, and went on about her life.
She kept to herself and the world began to wonder why everything seemed so quiet.
Then the sun stopped shining.
He couldn't go on, making the world a brighter place, if she couldn't sing her songs to him each day.
One night, the moon visited the girl.

"My child, you know that the Sun longs to hear your voice again. Do not worry what little boys tell you, they cannot make the music that you can. This night will last for many years if you do not raise your voice. Go on, summon the Sun."

Reluctantly, she stepped outside, and with a rusty voice,  she sang as loudly and as honestly as she could.

And as tears rolled down her cheeks, the Sun rose in the east, with tears that evaporated into steam as quickly as they came.

And the strange boy fell in love with the way she looked
to him when she sang to the sky.

I've had a hole
growing in
my stomach for
days.
Butterflies are
wrapped up
in the ribbon
in your
tapes, and
they come inside
and tie
confused
little knots around
my bones.

She lay on the ground, dirt collecting on her bones and in her hair.
Feathers and twigs scatter around her as the raven builds its nest.
A gentle breeze stirs up leaves around her.
It never served her to have a heart of gold.

I've always dreamed of adventure, but now, I'm not so sure.
I grew up playing video games and playing pretend in the woods.
What I would've given to be Link with my own legendary quest.
But these are turbulent times.
Between my anxiety and the businessman-president and his blue-bird threats and the media, honestly, I'd rather curl up in a ball and stay inside my house forever.
But the truth is, no one ever caught a crocodile by hiding in their
house.
It takes real bravery.
And while I've got problems staring me down like I'm deadmeat,
I've got to be a crocodile hunter. I have to.
It's the only way to free the princess trapped inside.

Loving you is like when the desert reaches up to kiss the crying
sky as it rains.

And my god, have I grown madly in love with the feeling of
water running down my cheeks.

You’ve grown on me
like moss and ivy,
slowly at first but
before you know it, I’m
covered in you, and I
choose not to remember
what it was like to be naked.

I looked up at the moon with a curiosity,
I, myself, had never known before.
The way its Cheshire-cat smile taunted me.
                             Somehow, it unnerved me.
                                               It challenged me.
And at the same time, the cool, white moonlight
made me feel warm inside, as if it knew I was alone
and it was smiling down on me
as a sign of comfort.

My dear you are like the sun and I am the moon, and my light aches in the shadow of your love.

My dear, you sway with the nervous passion of a thousand
winds.

Tell my why you are so anxious, when you carry their wishes on
your eyelashes?

There is so much power
in the delicate touch
of your hands caressing
my own.

Yet, this power, a force
even stronger than gravity,
and softer than a feather
binds me
to you.

I used to think that
there were these little bones in my heart, and
when they got broken, the doctors would put
a bright pink cast on my heart.

But it doesn't work like that.

You can't put a cast on your heart, and even if you could,
there isn't a cast big enough to hold every single piece
my heart has broken into.
There isn't a glue strong enough to put it back
together, and keep you from breaking
it, yet again.

I had an elderly lady look on me and say "one day you're going to be a little heart-breaker to a bunch of boys."
And I'm sure I was before now.

So next time you adorn yourself with such a label as,
"Heart-breaker," perhaps you should imagine
what it would be like when someone breaks your heart.

The most exquisite truth of all is this:
I may be broken.
I am not
d e s t r o y e d.

Gentle winds rolling,
Moonlight pouring over us,
Silent bliss outside.

You weren't the butterflies in my stomach —no, you were the ache
in my chest.
You were the lust in my eyes and the longing in my bones.
And there's nothing I can do to shake the stinging feeling of
wasps one my skin, in the places you should be.

All of the others can guarantee you the world.
But I can give you my heart.
I can't promise you fame or riches, but you will always be safe and warm and happy.
And even if you do not love me, I will  love you with all of my being.

You don’t need anyone to light you up.
Don’t ever let anyone else become
your sun, you are your own sun.
I believe that it is necessary to find
your moon, the person that you
reflect off of, and the person that you
fall into special kind of gravity with,
but no one should ever become your sun.
You are your own sun and you must
be your own source of light and life,
because once someone else
becomes your sun, and once that
sun falls into another’s orbit,
all of the flowers you’ve planted
shrivel up and die in darkness.
You must be your own sun.

I thought after
all these years of
being bitten and scratching sores,  
I'd eventually grow a thick enough skin
to keep out the mosquitos.
I was wrong.
Even so, mosquitos are nothing compared
to the itch I've got for you.
You see, mosquito bites are only skin deep,
but I've got this ravenous hunger for you,
gnawing at my bones.

You are the pioneer
after the fire,
with silver-grey and
blue-green leaves,
pods filled with seeds,
and brilliant yellow
flowerheads.
When you lived in the
mountains, you were
dressed in white-
lichen and snow.

I want to become part of you the way the wind becomes oxygen
in your lungs, and the way you cannot breathe when you are without me.

Golden-yellow, silky smooth skin
the color of honey begs me for a taste.
I mustn’t forget, the last time I came to
her seeking sweetness,
I was stung.

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, and
I’ve realized there are so many strikingly gorgeous people in the world.
No, I am not talking about the long hair
Or the blinding teeth or the amethyst eyes, those lovely windows to the soul.
No, I am talking about the souls, themselves.
Beautiful, creative and unique souls comprised of the most exquisite stardust. It’s none of the things we call ‘beautiful,’ here on Earth, though the face of true beauty hides behind them.

You, my dear,
are very
much unlike
the rest.
Your antlers
have not yet
grown in
and you worry
they never will.
But the boy with
amber eyes
says that
yours will be
made of crystal
and not of
bone and
velvet.
☪

There is some kind of soft magic
in the way your hands glide
across my skin, half knowing,
and half discovering,
deciphering,
decoding all that I am.
The way you go straight to the heart
of the matter, yet in doing so,
you're perpetually awed both by
your new findings and by the
remnants of stardust you left
behind, last time.

I tasted
the sting of whiskey
on your lips as we
kissed, your body betraying
you one last time, it was saying,
“I couldn’t handle myself sober for this.”
we said our last goodbye, without
ever saying a word.

I remember driving down the sun-baked
city street, on a mission to find
something, somewhere, which
now I cannot remember.
But I do remember this: you pulled
the truck aside and said, “Go grab some of
those pods off those trees.”
When I protested you simply gestured
for me to get going.
To this day, I still have mimosa and catalpa beans
stashed away in an old cigar box, silk trees
waiting to be planted in the
rich, dark earth.

Your cheeks
are the
      sky

and every freckle is a glittering
star.
Your eyes are like beautiful moons, deep
blue,
like the    
                               sea
and full of

         wonder.

Sometimes, I am afraid of falling so totally and completely in love with you.
I know you wouldn't hurt a hair on my head and you wouldn't dare tear apart my feelings.
But I am afraid of loosing you and that fear, alone is far stronger than any magic you can do to ignite this flame inside of me.

I love the way you always
challenge me.
          The way you always
         keep me on my toes.
          The way         you always
get my heart beating
like a drum.
This time, it was a race, only the first one
     to cross the finish line
     was not the winner.
The way you asked me
       what I wanted if I wanted if I won and what would happen
                                                   if I lost.
I tried to hold out on you, love, but your dancing
   fingers and perfect rhythm get me every time.
And when I moaned softly, as our ballet met its coda,
               you yanked me so close that my chest was
   one with yours and you whispered in my ear,

                                                   “I. Win.”

I knew what you
                          were from
    the very beginning.
I saw you from a
                 different angle.
All the others saw a sleek and slender form.
Thin bones that were jam-packed with dreams.
When I looked your way,
I saw
myself,
misunderstood, and
wandering. Lost.
But the way your eyes lit up when you saw me-it
was enough to let me know that
I had
been
found.

You blew me away, like a
                                   feather in the wind.
The very first second I saw you,
                                                   I knew there
was no way I could keep up.  You swept me
             away with your wild currents.
          When I first met you,
                      I thought, I was weak.
I thought you would surely extinguish my flame
  with the tiniest whisper.
          But you showed me that I
                   needed  
                        you to be stronger,
          that I needed you to burn brighter,
not because I was weak, not because I needed a man, but
                      because you were my
other half.

Before I go, let me pour this
over your head
it is not the skin or the bones
or the rushing hot blood beneath,
it is not the eyes or the hair
or the makeup,
it is not the clothing and it is not
even the way her footsteps fall
on the pavement
that makes her beautiful,
it never has been
and it never shall be
it was always in her words
and the way she loved

eyes roll back
lips part slightly
soft moans come
short breaths loosed
steel thighs melt
nails dig in
possession?
small death?
or both?

Everyone will eventually
fall
victim to some
addiction, and
I want to be the
ravenous hunger
in you
bones.

You always talked about falling in love, but what if I am afraid to fall?

What if I am afraid of heights?

There is no real reason
for alphabetical order
because
every essay,
every book,
every poem and every song
is just the same twenty-six
letters
in a different combination
but I’d re-write the entire
alphabet and
give it a new order
if that is what it takes
to get you to understand, not
‘that it’s “I love you,”’ but
‘it’s you that I love.’

Twisting and turning,
inside I am burning
blackened bones all smeared with ash,
and soot,
and along the edges tinged with yearning.

You were my air, I was your fire
and I was consumed with desire
a longing for you burned me up
like wood,
and the smoke kept on rising, higher.

Stole my breath away with a smile
and your colored wings, all the while
I stood
so very still, but my heart was beating wild.

The suffocating wind was roaring
for your love it was imploring
it would
have been the death of me,
but with you, I am forever soaring.

I closed my eyes and in hopes that you'd
suddenly materialize, I breathed in, deep.
The darkness ebbed and flowed.
I slowly lifted each lid, revealing
an emptiness before me
and an emptiness within.
I wish I could summon
you here.

I'll whisper my secrets
to the stars and pray
you are far, far away,
because my darkest
desires, and
wildest dreams
were not meant for you,
my dear.
They were meant for the
boy with the tree at his
spine and
all of my fantasies
on his
fingertips.