I used to say;

Every inch of my body is flawed.

My arms are the misspelling of words everyone expects you to know;

My stomach is the lucky lottery numbers of addicts and the poor;

My legs are rivers that flow endlessly, but flood all that dares live next to its edges. The water pours over and into the houses of strangers like it was always meant to be there. Only to wash away lives and leave destruction.

The freckles on my skin etch a pattern ‘ugly’ as delicate as Charlottes webs, only these designs were never meant to save the girl. They were meant to break her.

A story of hatred is told on my face, one of a torn castle and all in its wake. The royalty inside have all faded away, and the beauty I once saw could no longer stay.

Every inch of my body is flawed, but these misspelling arms take comfort in temporary words.

-S.D.F

I cry out for your touch,
The one I missed so much.
Where our bodies intertwined, so did our mouths, our hands, our minds;
Feeling so much more than skin,
Our heartbeat race never did win, over loving breaths and whispered names.
Was it something we became?
Words of hurt and screams of pain,
Now fill the bed where we would lay.
Feeling so much more than skin,
Our mouths, our hands, our minds tear each other limb from limb.
Two bodies far, miss the other so much.
Can you hear their cries for touch?
-S.D.F

I still crave you
Do you remember what I feel like?
Do you remember how I taste?
All those broken hearted nights;
Fast paced,
Heavily laced,
As our hearts raced,
And bodies chased
The ultimate feeling of grace.

I still crave you,
The way you intertwined with more than just my body,
But too my heart and mind;
With thin lines,
Between our passionate grind,
And purposely being blind,
I should have known what you searched for you would not find.

I still crave you;
But too,
You flew,
And grew.
With someone who knew what to do.
-S.D.F