The whisper of my skin as it crosses yours
The sigh deep within as I nestle up to your side,
       trying to get closer than is even possible...
A kiss, gently settled upon my forehead,
       a gift left there, forever branded on my skin.

I take none of these moments for granted,
     but savor each of them,
                           draw them in,
                                        taste them,
Swirl their essence around like the finest of wines.
And as I nuzzle ever closer,
                                               forever closer,
I look up into your eyes,
knowing with certainty that I have found peace
                         in the whispers between our skin.

I dismantle you little by little,
pick you apart piece by piece
as I edge you ever closer to the precipice.
Your curiosity is titillated
by the tantalizing nothings
I whisper to draw you near,
promises I never intend to keep.
I tease as we creep, and you have no clue
as to the depths of my nefarious intent
until the moment I lay my hands
on your chest
          and push.
Your hands catch, grasp tightly.
So I lean forward and gift you
with one last kiss
before I stare into your eyes
as I peel them from the surface.
Laughter pours forth
as I witness your fall
from high above.
I turn and walk away,
my deceit complete.

My biggest fear has nothing to do
     with monsters, the dark, death,
     or any of those usual frights.
No, my most intense scare comes
     from the anticipation that one day
     you may see me the same way
     I see myself.
For you see I'm not the girl that guys
     conjure up in their daydreams.
I could never hope to pass as one
     of those flitty girly-girls who know
     of quizzical things such as
               make-up
               cute hairstyles
               or fashion.
My blemishes show, and honestly
     I haven't a clue how to hide them
     anyway.
I look at braided hair, beachy waves,
     and effortless updos with envy
     My hair has two styles: up or down.
I've never in my life looked casually cute,
     and am obviously uncomfortable
     in a dress.  Please just pass me
     my jeans and t-shirt back,
     I'm much more myself in them.
     How does one even walk in heels?
I'd like to think I'm one of those
     "cool" girls that guys claim
     they love, the low-maintenance
     type chick, but I don't think
     I'm "cool" at all, really.
When guys describe those chicks,
     they do things like
               play video games
               quote Star Wars
               read comic books
     like some ideal gorgeous geek.
Well that's **** sure not me either.
     I **** at video games,
     love Star Wars, but
     I'm terrible with movie references,
     and have never read comics.
     Does manga count?
     I'm kind of starting to get into that...
I'm not the nerd's epitome of perfection
     either, the everyman's ideal.
So what am I? I'm just boring,
     little ole me.
I love to read, and would rather
     spend the night reading
     or watching something than go out.
I'm shy and self-conscious to a fault,
     so don't try bringing me around
     friends, I'll just bring you down.
Honestly, I'm basically a child. I love
               Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
               Gargoyles
               Tom & Jerry
               Animaniacs
     and cartoons in general.
I'm quiet and contemplative, often caught
     writing in my notebook,
     detailing my observations
     about the world around me.
I have a ***** mind and a messed-up
     sense of humor, giggling
     of the worst times occasionally.
But all in all, I think of myself
     as pretty boring.  Laidback,
     but with the most capricious of moods.
     I'm both low and high maintenance.
I don't know why you think positively
     of me, but I anticipate the day
     you realize I'm really nothing
     special at all.
The day you discover the truth
     I already know all too well.

It's funny the pull one person can have.
The way they can make the world right-
     bring flight to your very soul-
Only to rip a hole through you
     in the very next breath.
I don't get it.
This whirlwind, this tornado of emotional distrust.
How did you gain such power over me?
I will gladly stand her to be showered by
     your kisses and professions of affection
     but all it takes is a split second of self-doubt
     and I'm left wondering...
Are you better off without me?
There are others, you know...
Much prettier, shinier baubles out there,
     just waiting to be picked up and admired.
I'm flawed, filled to the brim with troubles,
     not wrapped in nearly such a neat package.
Funny, it is, the way this ferris wheel works.
Just when I think I've found my comfort space,
     my safe place,
     ...whoosh...
there is goes, oh so quickly,
blinked away much too rapidly.
How does one person gather that much strength
     over my very own essence?
Funny the way that works.

All the things you've said
     that have struck me down the most
     were said as nonchalant utterances,
     or disguised as whimsy and play.
But those are the ones
     that dig in the most,
     drill into my core
until I'm so ******* and hurt
     I want to spit your venom
     right back at you.
Your words work their way
      slowly through my system,
     steadily poisoning my thoughts.
And it's the worst when I'm alone,
     with only my now-tainted mind
     for company.
Problem is, sometimes
     I feel that same loneliness
     with you right beside me.
So, despite your ardent claims
     to the contrary,
I'm quite unsure of your ability
     to handle my capriciousness
     for the long-term.

You know, sometimes it really ****** me off how completely infatuated with you I am. I try so **** hard to be the quintessentially cool, calm, and collected one.

Act like I don't immediately perk up and look around every single time I think I hear you walking my way. Like I don't check my phone regularly just in case I received some communication from you and missed it by chance. As if I don't await the moment my eyes get to settle upon your face, I get to wrap my arms around you, and press my lips to yours. Like hearing your voice isn't what starts my world spinning again when it's all stopped and also slows it down when I'm racing too fast and facing an imminent crash.

But sometimes, every so often, I wish I could back up, pull away, distance myself even just the tiniest bit. That way when the casualest insult unfurls itself from your tongue, crawls between your teeth, and crosses those perfect lips of yours, I don't feel like the wind coming off your words knocks me over with such ferocity.

Dear god, man
do you have any idea
what one of your winks does to me?

My heart flutters,
a butterfly freed from its cage
and I'm left breathless,
chasing after it
as it soars away.

I can catch it sometimes,
calm my breath and the beating-
but you always, always
free it all over again
as soon as you wink once more.

You should be here
waiting for me in bed
when I get home, sir.
Just an idea.

Do you have any clue
how hard it is for me
to focus at work
with my ******* slick
from thoughts of you?

It's hard to act calm
and professional
when I'm thinking
of you entering me
from behind, pushing
into me as you pull
my hair and own me.

Nobody at work knows
that when I smile it's not
to be polite, but because
of the secret dirtiness
I keep covered inside
that none of them
would ever guess.

It's only because I am
thinking of you,
contemplating licking
those secret places
only I know of, that I can
make it through the day.

You should be here
waiting for me in bed
when I get home, sir.
Just an idea.

You are, quite simply,
my most frequent thought. My lips
miss the taste of you
and my jawline aches for the
presence of your silken kiss.

A sentence most innocent,
     yet the undercurrent
     is deep and swift.
                                                          ­  I love you, too.
A snap-reflex response
     to a heartfelt exhibition
     of true emotion.
                                                        ­    I love you, too.
To an outsider,
     nothing would be amiss
     but I read the lack of words.
                                                          ­  I love you, too.
This throwaway text
     hides something much more
     than you care to show.
                                                           ­ I love you, too.
And simple as those
     four little words, I know
     something is wrong.

**** I'm so scared
and I'm so in love with you
but I don't have a **** clue
how I'm supposed to trust
that what we have is the thing
gushed about in movies,
and swooned over in novels.
How the hell does anyone decide
that they know with all certainty
and perfect clarity
that that one person
is their one person,
the one meant to be?
I notice little things that irk me,
rub my nerves until they fray
and I wonder, will those
be the things that bring about
the death of us?
Or am I overreacting, overanalyzing
every single moment that passes
because I'm just so ******* scared
of what the future could possibly be.
Because ****, am I scared  
But ****, am I in love with you.
And the biggest torture
of our relationship is,
I don't know which
of those parts of me will win.
Because no matter how much
I am in love with you,
****, am I scared.

Have you ever met a stranger
       and known them instantly?
Because baby,
       that's how I feel about you.
That serendipitous meeting
       was actually a long time coming,
       dear.
Because baby,
       I think our souls danced
       many times before our eyes
       chanced upon one another.
Escaping away
     to take solar strolls
         and traipse along the moon,
                   dancing within the stars
                                                     together.
And baby,
       our fortuitous discovery
       of each other wasn't chance at all,
but the opportunity for our souls
       to rejoice in puerile glee
       knowing their person had finally
       found their soul's one true match.

You run into the station as I'm pumping gas and come out with a gigantic cup of coffee.
"I know that usually by this time you've had three or four cups, and this was the biggest they had."
I take a long swig, and it's the perfect combination of caffeine, dairy, and sweetness.
"I love how you know exactly how to make my coffee," not knowing if you realize how much significance I place on this small act.
"About three-fourths coffee, one-quarter milk, and a ****-ton of sugar," you say while smiling at me so casually.
It's not a big deal, and yet it is. You pay attention to the tiniest of details, take notice of the most seemingly insignificant parts of my day.
You have no idea how much it means to me, how much value you have added to something such as this cup of coffee.

We arrive home
and I see you look over there.
I've been so happy
just spending time with you.
It's been just the two of us,
a welcome escape.
It's not often this happens,
when we get time alone
without interruption
from texts or a phone call.
But tonight we are free
and we have the most
mundanely grand plans.
And I look forward to them
with utmost glee.
But then it happens.
We pull in and you say
you're going there
"just for a minute."
I'm not fooled,
it's never just a minute.
Our plans are derailed,
I'm left to bring in the groceries
alone.
And do the dishes,
alone.
We said we'd tackle them
together,
tag-team the massive pile.
Yet here I am,
alone.
And I get left feeling like
a complete and utter *****
because I'm upset at the fact
that you want to go home
to tell your parents good night.
I just want this to be your home.
And I'm afraid
it never will be.
You'll always have to go there
and we'll always have some
sort of interruption.
And I'll never have you
all to myself, never,
and sometimes I'll be left
feeling completely *******
alone.

Thank you
       I say quickly, out of nowhere.

For what?
      you question.

Reasons pile up so fast
in my head that they avalanche,
forming a barricade to my mouth.

For everything,
      I say simply,
      meaning so much more.

For loving me,
       I think simply,
       meaning so much more.

She looks at me and I know in that
                                     quickest
                               of
                           seconds
             something is wrong.
                                 "Mom?
                                        Mom?!"
And she
              crumples
       against my sister.
I saw the
                            confusion
       in my mom's eyes
and now I see the
                            panic
       in my sister's.
My mom, limp on the ground,
       isn't responding
       to my repeated pleas.
"She's having a stroke!
            She's having a stroke!"
Panic makes my sister's voice
                            frantic.
                   We've been here before.

All around people are crowding
       waytooclose,
but the shouts for EMS can't
              drown out the
                                          burst
of silence suddenly in my head.
My sister and I lock eyes,
                                   transported
to when this happened before,
              wondering...
                            wo­rrying...

Pure anticipation
   at the moment I
      can rush into your
         open, waiting arms
            and brush my lips
               against the smooth
                  softness of yours
                     is what propels me
                        through the dizzying
                           dullness of each day.

Putting on my face
The world's so topsy-turvy
Hold tight! The ride's tough

Your blithesome nature
overwhelms my aching soul.
If I am honest
I must tell you that you are
simply extraordinary.

I want to bolt,
                run away,
escape while I can,
before I'm in
              too
                 deep.
                                                                                   One glance from you
                                                                                  and I know-
                                                                                                 I fell,
                                                                                                    too deep,
                                                                                                            long ago.
                                                                                    I couldn't run if I wanted.
It's too much!
                 Too fast!
        Irrational!
my brain cries out.
                                                                      My heart has no room for reason.
                                                                                  It reacts to you,
                                                                                                and you alone.
All senses beg with me
     step back,
              reassess,
         calm down
                       breathe...
                                                                                          But how can I breathe
                                                                                     when you are constantly
                                                                                     taking my breath away?

We all come from broken homes.
In our own way we are each 
shattered pieces. 
Remember though,
mosaics are made 
from broken pieces
and they are still works of art. 
The key, I think,
is to find the artist
who can help you
fit your fragments together
into the masterpiece
you are meant to be.

Terrified
                   of taking this chance
                   and letting you see
                   just how jagged every
                   little piece
of
                  me is.  Broken, all my
                  scattered portions flutter
                  away until I'm no
                  longer sure of just
what
                  picture they used to
                  complete.  And you come
                  along, strolling oh-so-
                  casually to retrieve
this
                  piece and that piece,
                  fitting them in their
                  rightful places again.
                  Each snugly put in with a
love
                  I never imagined could
                  exist in reality. So tell me
                  why, when I so clearly see
                  your pure intentions, why
can
                  I not just accept it all?
                  Instead I wonder, second-
                  guess, and contemplate
                  running.  Can I ever just
be...

Sometimes while sitting next to you
I feel as if we are actually galaxies away from one another
and I'll try my damnedest to gather up all the stars in the vicinity
and spell you out a message among the constellations.
But for some reason you can't read my signs.
Maybe we're not speaking the same language,
or I simply haven't gathered enough stars to adequately display what I'm attempting to say.
Whatever the cause, our miscommunication turns the inches between our bodies
into unconquerable territory
that spans light years.

Standing in the middle
of an Old Navy,
waiting on my boo
to finish trying on clothes.
I always feel so out of place
shopping for cute things,
like I'm just not girly enough.
I'd rather go play around
in the toy aisle.
I never was one for matching
prints and colors
and figuring out make-up patterns.
Maybe one day I'll grow up,
figure this stuff out,
but god, I hope not.

I give out so many mixed signals
even I can't hope to understand
all the contradictions, though
that doesn't make them any
more intentional. I assure
you that I see exactly
what I am doing
though I'm
powerless
to stop,
because
each
conflicting
word and action
is precisely what I'm
feeling in that moment. So
with each passing day my feelings
seesaw back and forth, and we're just
stuck in the seats, unable to walk away
from the ride in which I have entrapped us.

After repeated inquiries
into the state of my mind
                                                      you
resort to lingering side-
long glances, trying to
                                                      see
the truth behind my
steadfast denials and
imitation smiles.

You attempt slyness, but
                                                      I'm
qui­ck to notice these
analytical gazes. It's not
your fault that I am
both unable and unwilling
to allow you into
the maze of my mind.

Though hurtful
to us both, it's
                                                      just so
much easier to lash out
than to let you in.

There's simply nothing
                                                      goo­d
in there, you see. Trust
me when I say the terrors
flinging themselves
                                                      ­at
my brain will gladly
make you their prey too.
No one is safe from my
                                                      sabotage­.

I'm the destroyer of your dreams.
I will sabotage us until
     there is nothing left to cling to.
And I will stand over
     our ashy remains,
Unable to contain my remorse,
     even though I walk through
     the pile left there
and leave bare footprints
     in my wake
     made from the soot of us.

Come closer to me, my dear,
I beckon to you gently…
advance without any fear
ever so very slowly…

A smile creeps onto my face
because I see the hesitation
with each step you place
closer to where I stand.

I shine brightly, seemingly sweet,
though I can tell you aren't fooled,
you can smell my deceit
coming through this façade.

My nefarious intent is
no longer hidden as you close in.
I laugh, my malevolence evident as
the sound wraps around you.

So come closer dear, and give me a kiss
Pay not any attention
to the poisonous taste of my lips.
You'll feel better soon, my dear.

I don't want someone I can't live without-to me, that's not what true love is about at all.  A state of being completely and fully dependent upon another is no good.  I'll tell you what I think love should be instead-not someone to move any mountains for you, but one who will stand by your side through it all, whether planned or not.  Don't fix it for me, but hold my hand and together we'll conquer our world.

Each night I died,
sleep slowly
overtaking my brain.
And each morning I woke
and would lie there
so disappointed at
the very act of waking,
my tiny deaths
only temporary.
I struggled to move,
bound by the weight
of my demons sitting
in my lungs until,
with a lengthy sigh,
I'd breath them out
and force myself up.

                                                          Each night I fall,
                                                          sleeping soundly in knowing
                                                          that I am cared for.
                                                          And each morning I wake
                                                          and bound up, bursting
                                                          with energy and the need
                                                          to press my lips to your.
                                                          I'm so grateful to have
                                                          another day, more chances
                                                          to be caressed by
                                                          the sound of your voice.
                                                          I am weightless, and I
                                                          let out a content sigh,
                                                          not wanting to get up
                                                          only because I have found
                                                          perfection in your arms.

I've always been a small child
who likes to draw and play with toys
and you, you've got glitter in your veins
and I've always been attracted to shiny things.
So you caught my attention from the very beginning
and I, I who am easily distracted, became hooked
on the colors in your soul.

The pressure builds and builds
until I've ballooned so big
that a piece of me jostles loose
and begins
               floating
                           off.
I
           leap
    after it, aghast,
and clutch it firmly to my chest.
Only when I go to place it
back in its rightful spot
            do I notice
                   other remnants gone
                missing, floating
                               wayward.
Gasping, rushing to catch them
     all before I'm completely lost,
I hurriedly put them back
     and rush to grab more.
Only after securing the last piece
     do I realize
that in my haphazard haste
I've put myself together
                                 all wrong.

One kiss, and an explosion occurred.
Neither expecting this, yet nothing different
     would we prefer.
I didn't fall for you gracefully,
but the siren's call of your soul to mine
     was a blitzkrieg attack.
And honestly, I'm looking forward
     to never going back.
For you, sir, have filled me wholly,
     completely my voids,
     and sealed shut every wound.
Every heart beat boomed in my head,
     drowning the sounds of all else
     the moment I knew for sure
     I had found it, found you.
Without trying, I came unfrozen
     as your voice caressed me.
My breath arresting, hitching,
I knew then, I know now-
     I want you to be
     my always and forever,
     my happily ever after.

The first was a neighbor
I fell fast into friendship with
Until he betrayed my innocent trust.

The second was a cousin,
Someone admired and adored
Until he twisted my adoration
Into something I didn't recognize
Or ask for.

The third was an uncle,
A partner in crime
Kept close to my heart
Until he bent the rules
And my will.

My view of the world
Was shaped
Changed
Shattered
By these three men.

Men I knew. Cared for.
Looked up to in awe.
And they used that
Toddler fascination
To their sick advantage.

Until I learned that
Love is shown in funny ways.
A secret meeting
Shh, don't tell your parents
Threats only barely veiled
Or something bad might happen
To your little sister.
And bruises left as reminders
You asked for it.

They showed me the love I was worth.

I sometimes wonder if you realize
just how tumultuous the
                          back
       and
                 forth
in my head becomes day in
                           and day out.
I see the way you look at me,
as if you could gaze right through
the side of my skull,
and into my very thoughts,
as you wonder what's going on in there.
           So
               very
       much.
Tornadic
         thoughts
    hurl
themselves
        about,
and it takes all efforts to keep
my exterior placid
But the calmness is the clue you need
to know that something is brewing within.
And I'm too tired to explain,
so I leave you there, and let you wonder.

I'm all alone here in my room,
but the voices dance in my head,
singing me that convincing tune,
telling me it's time...
                   go ahead,
                   release the red.

"I love you,"
I say, speaking those inadequate words out loud
only to watch them fall to the ground, useless at expressing how I truly feel about you.
You say you love me back, but I want to say
"No, you don't fully comprehend my meaning."
It's not just love.

It's wriggling up against you to close nonexistent space, forever trying to get closer, wanting to prolong moments into eternity, because being enveloped within your arms makes me feel safer than I ever thought possible.

It's reading a book about losing one's forever love in a car accident and consequently nagging you to start wearing your seatbelt and stop using your phone so much. I hate feeling like the nagging girlfriend, but god, I don't know how I'd go on without you, and no horror novel has ever scared me so much as that book did.

"I love you,"
I say, feeling the letters crumble under the weight I place upon them.

Let me tell you the story of how both of us had problems sleeping, but once we started texting, the darkness didn’t seem so long and lonely.  Let me tell you how I would stay up until mere hours before work or sometimes all through the night, not being able to sleep and not really wanting to.  Let me tell you about how going to sleep meant facing the disappointment of waking up again the next morning.  But let me tell you, baby, how I loved learning about you and how we traded questions to get to know one another.  Let me tell you about the one time we talked on the phone until you fell asleep, and I just sat there for a minute and listened to you, then whispered oh so quietly, “I love you” before hanging up.  Let me tell you about the time you told me that you’d never looked forward to texts so much in your life, and how I felt the exact same way.

The melody of your voice
no longer holds appeal,
bringing only disappointment
in the things left unsaid.
As for subjects mentioned,
your promises mean nothing
and the words you speak
are mere sounds that hold
no value to me anymore.
They are all too devoid
of the trust I was mistaken
in putting in you before.

.                                                         ******* *****.
The words come out swift
                          and angry,
accompanied by the contempt
                          in your eyes.
                                                         ******* *****.
I stand, accosted by your
                          animosity,
accepting every insult you fling so
                          unceremoniously.
                   ­                                      ******* *****.
Sorry, don't think I heard you quite
                          well enough.
Please, repeat so I may keep your words
                          clutched closely.
                                                         ******* *****.
I take these taunts you throw out
                          so casually,
                          mold them tightly
                          into a ball
and force them down my throat,
                          swallowing them
                          like the poison
                          that you are.
                                                       ******** *****.

Each silent insult you hurl in my direction inches its way up my body so that it may worm its way in my soul and lie there, forcing every insecurity to my surface. Your unspoken digs crawl into my very being, wielding barbs that cut deeper than any words could. And the worst thing is, I don't think you even realize how terribly you're hurting me.

You stumbled upon me
     when I was down on my knees.
Broken, I told you not to bother,
     but you knelt beside me
     and reached out a hand.
Helping me up slowly,
     you showed me your own
     bruised and ****** body.
And I knew you had been stuck
     down there before too.
So I met your eyes cautiously
     and let you guide me to my feet.

I think if you had stopped there,
     we wouldn't be here today.
But you weren't content
     with just setting me on my feet.
You gave me a step up,
     then another,
          and another,
until you had me on a pedestal
     I never wanted.
I was never meant to be
     the princess in the tower.
I can't live up to that.
Heights scare me,
     and the air suffocates up there.
So with the pressure pushing in,
     I did the only thing I could
     to free myself from the fearful view.
                                                           ­           I jumped.