You paused to look at me as if you were browsing a book shelf
and your fingers brushed ever so slightly across my skin
hesitating, lingering, at my spine.

Then you chose me
you laid me down and opened me up
it wasn’t easy because not many have read me before.

Your eyes looked me up and down, side to side
taking it all in,
engorging yourself.

You licked your fingers before you turned my pages
for a steadier and more meaningful grasp.
You said paper cuts were pretty
and that they were safe with you.

But then,
you read something you didn’t like
slammed the book shut
and shoved it back on the shelf.

better to be silent
than say words
that are brittle
and break
under the
weight
of their meaning.

existing without living
waking and breathing
in short spurts of pain
too ***** to be touched
picked and scabbing
bleeding into dinner
kissing into sleep
choking
pushed away
love this is not
lust preserves the rot
my heart's in a knot
if only I was taught

I want to dance to Frank Sinatra's tunes
this cold time of the year.
With our feet bare on the kitchen tiles,
with a handful of each other and our heads
reclining for support on our shoulders.
I want to stay there until the early hours of the next day
with a soft silence and cozy smile;
just us muting the world for this little while.

When we soon run out of music, we'll simply sway
like an anchored boat on a breezy day
and all I'll need will be the steady beat of your heart
because to me you are a mellow melody always
and throughout the disarray of my life.

Just for this night let's sway in each others embrace;
let's dance the frigid winter nights away.

you saw sadness,
and you never noticed the pain.

you heard the thunder,
and ignored the rain.

but yet you wonder,
just why you dug my grave.

you saw, my dear.

but you cannot see.

I want someone who sees my freckles as galaxies
And my scars as stories.
Who tells me my eyes are beautiful
And that my crooked teeth are charming.
I need someone who makes me feel as happy
As I feel when I write poetry.
Who makes me realize that I don’t need a lover,
But sometimes it’s okay to want one.
Then I realize as I trace the freckles on my arm,
That I already see them as galaxies.
And I know the stories behind my scars.
My eyes are my favorite feature
And **** my crooked teeth are awesome.
I write poetry and it makes me happy,
So why do I want a person to share that with?
I have everything here,
I love myself more than anyone could ever love me.

I have to constantly tell myself that I didn’t love him.
I used him
he used me
for comfort, and comfort only.
I’ve only ever loved one human being in that way on this planet. 

And it’s okay
because when I tell myself I didn’t love him
I know we were in the same place.
Our chests were both hurting from someone else
hammering
nails
into
our
hearts.
We needed each other then
but we didn’t love each other ever.
A.p.

My eyes they show it
You just don't pay attention.
Its there though
My expressionless face shows nothing.
These eyes though , they show everything
Love.
Hate.
Fear.
Pain.
Yeah the tears they fall.
I cry.
My mind says "Don't Cry"
But my heart says "Don't stop"
This world.
My life.
Its dark & painful
I still smile though.
I smile through the pain.
I walk through the fear.
I smile but I still can't help the fact that I hate that I love you.