To crave affection
Is to crave-
To long for-
The display of love
And care.

To want affection,
One must first want
To be loved
And then want
To be shown that love.

To crave affection
Is to long for the knowledge
that one is loved and as much as
I shame myself for that craving
I can find no fault in it.

You are the center
of your own world.
You look forward and you
turn around and you
are still looking forward.

(Even if someone tells you
you’re facing backward,
to you it is still forward.)

You are your own
pivot point- the axis-
The pin in the paper.
When you stand
you stand still.

(Everything else around you
Will change and
Sometimes you change too
But you’re still you.)

so I noticed that we both drink coffee.
just like anyone, we both like ours a certain way.
i like mine sweeter, with just the aftertaste of coffee there.
caramel, sugar, creamer.
i think about when i’ll have my next cup, and the idea of it alone makes me happy.
i don’t care what time of day i have it, i almost always have a cup.
i make time for my coffee.
it might be safe to say i think you like your coffee black.
you might add just the smallest touch to soften its bitter taste, but never too much.
sometimes i think you just pour it and carry on, as though it’s nothing important at all.
as though all it is, is just some quick fix.
like you just want to get it over with.
we drink it in two different ways.
i drink it slowly.
i note every flavor in every sip, i enjoy it.
i note the warmth it brings me.
i like it all hours of the day.
you drink it quickly.
quicker than me, at least.
you don’t care if it burns your tongue, or perhaps you’re used to the pain.
you accept it.
you never let it last, you move on to something else soon after.
i lay in your bed, watching your eyes as they skim the screen in front of you.
your mind is somewhere else.
i savor the moments you look my way, if even for a second, and smile at me.
i wonder if you even notice them.
i feel your laugh vibrate my bones, making the hair on my arms stand on end.
do i make you feel at all?
i reflect on it every time i drink my coffee.
i think about it with each and every sip, taking my time.
something tells me that you don’t do the same.
after all, it's just coffee.
but i put my all into this coffee.
i think you like your coffee black.

Sometimes,
When you call out my name
And you smile and wave,
I smile because, well,
Why wouldn’t I smile?

But sometimes,
Hours later when I lie
Awake in bed and smile
To myself, I learn to hate
That smile.

Because you always,
always smile at me,
and never for me.
Never in the way
you smile for her.

Laying next you  
Is like laying in a pile
Of autumn leaves
I know
I’m changing my colors
And you have made
all of the difference
In me

My soul grows restless
though I grow weary
I wish for a peaceful adventure
to cure this aching want.

Before,
This was a home.
Now,
It is poison.

I want to breathe but
The air is toxic and
Your words- they are harsh-
Cut deep
and they hurt.

I want to sleep but
The monsters keep me awake.
They haunt
Only me.

I want to rest my
Weary, aching feet but
The chair, the sofa, the bed-
This house
is made
of Fire.

Before,
This was a home.
Now,
It is only poison.