I crave to stain your lips with my name
Easing every syllable, vowel, and consonant across your tongue
Excavating into the base of your throat
Edging through your lungs
Becoming your every breath and sigh alike.

I desire to drip my mind down your back
Lacing every thought I can through the notches of your spine
Allowing ideas to glide across tranquil shoulder blades
Enable my intellect to become your most sumptuous support system.

I necessitate tracing my soul across your collarbone
Purr my subconscious into the deepest crevices of your chest
Inspire my pneuma up and down your incomparable neck.

I can make you feel meaningful again,
Touch me so I don't feel so empty anymore.

Do not love me yet, for I
     am still a teenager
          A scimitar about the heart,
                too sharp to touch too soon
                      Before I'm touched, I need to grow
                more full in golden light;
          I need to smile upon my life
     & rule some path of the night
          I need to know what roads & fields
                lie in my domain
                      & dull my brand new ecstasies
                              with sophomoric pain
                                     I need the love of some clueless boy
                              as smart & wicked as me,
                      that we might ***** in ignorance
                             & fear of what might be
                                    & then when I'm all grown up,
                                           & know what I can hold,
                                     Then, perhaps, we could try love,
                               if you're not too old

Rebellion
Rise my dear friends,
Stand up and fight.
Not for yourself,
But for what makes things right.
We endured the pain,
For far too long.
Letting them win,
For only their gain.
I had enough,
And so have you.
I will fight,
And so should you.
One cannot,
Do alone.
But fight together,
We'll own the throne.
So let us rise,
And start healin'.
We need to start,
Our own rebellion.

I am the still rain falling,
Too tired for singing mirth—
Oh, be the green fields calling,
Oh, be for me the earth!

I am the brown bird pining
To leave the nest and fly—
Oh, be the fresh cloud shining,
Oh, be for me the sky!