we sat next to each other

and I ignored the tension

and laughed and teased

and felt at ease


but you grabbed my hand

and traced my palm.
your touches
slowly crawled up my arm,

your thumb massaged mine

and you pulled me closer

and raised my hand to your mouth

and kissed my fingertips with your soft, soft lips
.

but this incredible lust

would pass with time

and you would never truly

be mine.

so I tried to convey all of my pain
in a soft kiss on your shoulder

and as I released myself from your grasp

my eyes started to tear,


and I forced myself to realize
that it is probably best
that I will never get back the sensation

of having you at my fingertips.

I will hold your patience
to the test, with
mere glimpses
of my careful self
And
I will do so
by pouring myself
into your hands,
drip by drip,
like a hot tea.
A rare, scolding
feeling.
An intriguing smell,
and a soothing steam.
Slowly rising,
filling your brain
with the thought of me,
hot, hot tea.

People don’t see the pictures I paint in my head.
They laugh at me when I call myself an artist.

I grew wise much too fast.
There are stretch marks on my brain.
They taunt me for these scars
because they don’t know of such things.
But I grew wise much too fast,
and there’s only you to blame.
So don’t leave me now,
only you know of my pain.

Don’t go.
I blurted out through my cries,
gripping her hand tighter.

Think of trees,
she whispered, wiping the tears from my cheek
like leaves catching raindrops,
They’ll help you sleep.*

So I began to dream
with the help of the trees
and the breeze that brushed
ever so lightly through the leaves.

As she let go of my hand
and disappeared from my room,
I was no longer afraid
of the loneliness that loomed,

for the trees will always surround me.

The weight of winter wallows here, young one.
Even in the summer, my tears have froze.
Never let it chill your soul, find the sun,
stray from the shade where madness tends to grow.

I have wept and whined, the cold disobeys.
My heart belongs where heat kisses my skin.
Trap me in the ice and I shall decay
as I did years ago when I grew thin.

But dark, frigid times have taught me plenty.
I now encourage others to prosper.
Show kindness to scared little saplings
and then watch them grow into their armor.

I had let myself frost, blinded by cold,
but I now know fortune favors the bold.

this is what giving up tastes like.