I seldom stop to think about,
The things that make me—me.
My stardust eyes reflect starry skies
And all that’s in between.
I have a body which knows no rest,
My swelling chest
My full plump *******
Have held most everything.
It was your pillow
When one too many
Problems creased your brow,
It was a saucer,
When you painted me
With honey and olive green,
Only to be licked and ravaged—
Nearly torn at the seams.
These hands have seen more I argue
They weather by the day,
By whenever they touch your sensitive skin
You say, “I like them that way.”
You’ve kissed my lips
With the reverence
Of a reigning queen.
And still, I sigh,
When one too many sleepless nights
I wake between your sheets.

The rain spattered on the broken glass,
My heart leaped out of my caved-in chest,
I called out to my love—and saw him pass.

I was left alone, skin soaking in the grass,
Only the staggered beating of my heart as—
The rain spattered on the broken glass.

The next day I wandered late to class
Anxious eyes and beaten heart searching,
I called out to my love—and saw him pass.

I fell to the ground—there was a mass
Of people who had stopped to stare—still,
The rain spattered on the broken glass.

Even today I think myself a foolish lass,
To dream that he’ll return to me.
I called out to my love—and saw him pass.

He gave me a key fashioned from brass,
To lock my heart away for good,
The rain spattered on the broken glass,
I called out to my love—and saw him pass

Some want to redistribute wealth
Perhaps instead we should redistribute love
Then wealth would redistribute itself

Phase 1

His heart was full of cobwebs and weeds, while consisting of very little flowers. His dirt has been upturned by years of fear, self-loathing and low self esteem; it has been salted by tears and hence made perfect groundwork for our growing garden. A bud here, a blossom there, they rose. But the cold returned. A heart entering spring was dragged back down into a cavern of winter snow.

Phase 2

I couldn't find him. He left no tracks, just disappeared into the winter foliage. I called to him but was only met with echoing silence. Be still, my heart, the garden flourishes still--though frozen.

A fire is unfurling within me the older I get.
The need to be taken, body and soul, is overwhelming

The weather chills and my blood is the only thing keeping me warm,
I have left the comforting cave of your embrace—looking for something different
Something exciting and thrilling enough to make me realize why I was alive.
I didn’t recognize that comfort was enough and the safety it implied.
When I left, I risked heartache
I risked the health of my most vital *****,
All because I craved danger.
What a fool I was.
I watched as you let another wolf into your den, one snowy night
And I—I was left out in the cold.
But who can blame you?
I said I was a fool.

There is a darkness in him that compels me.
Every move he makes, it entices me and pulls me in.
A charming smirk, a twitch of his finger,
As he lounges in black velvet--nails sharpened to a point.
It's dangerous, but I can't withdraw, can't pull away from his touch.

His personality is like a drug. It's abusing, but it feels so good--so raw and primal.
I'm suspended on a silken thread, waiting to fall,
Anticipating it.

But all he does is smirk and take a drag as he paints my skin with ink.