" Kiss me right here "    and     he points to his lips
                I paused to think
"Come on "
Do it   he says
No.
You'll steal My heart , Then you won't know what do with it   I said

I thought  back to the one and only boy before this one, I kissed every inch of him

To me it meant Everything , but all he said was
**"It's Not Like We ****** or Anything"

As i sit here looking through college degrees i cry.

Querido libro ,
Tengo una adiccion
A todo lo que es ficcion
Quisiera vivir entre tus historias
Quiero ser parte de tus memorias
Me das alegria con tu
Sabiduria.
Me encanta los monstros
Los heroes y los  villanos
Cuando no te leo , te extraño.
Querido libro,
Te amo

I’ve tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
“you can’t wear red lipstick”
made me believe
I never wanted to in the first place.

for every time instead
I’ve stained my lips with cherries
learning how to tie the stems
so I can slip forget-me-knots
to the back of your throat—
do you feel my restriction now?

the razors that fly off my tongue
perk thorns on my skin,
another down stroke on my wrist
will teach me that
you were right,
shyness is a virtue.

no need to speak,
go spend one hundred dollars
and some percent for tax
to cover up,
even though I’m sure your mother told you
that cotton stains.

so make it black.
get your hair stuck
in the zipper of that sundress
and pray as you pull it out
that it will lose its pigmentation
in the process
mark a down stroke
for killing two flowers
for one bouquet.

hold it
close your eyes and throw it back,
I know we shouldn’t be wearing white anyway
but tradition can take a lot out of you
like what you really think—
don’t say **** in public.

instead drag your first impressions
all the way to the altar
and dress in your Sunday best
a flower on your lapel
clear on your lips
a stroke for the neat decline
of the son

I tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
my image
was my fault.