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Aly Fatal Dec 2010
I have two things to share and one thing to hide.

One: That my heart tried to glide and fly back to you and discovered that all it could do was beat

Another: That I tried to grow in pieces that were illegal under the statutes of what was pretty

The last: That falling in love felt more like tripping over tipped toes.

It was accidental as I tried to keep my feelings secret.

Now, all I have to do was remember which one was which.
Aly Fatal Dec 2010
I've been here all day
The day is starting to darken into night
And I have been here all day
How do you excuse yourself from this?
I've waited for you like a faucet not turned off all the way
Steadily dripping tears and waiting for you to realize how you have left me
When we started I told you promises weren't accepted here
They would never be an suitable replacement for cold hard action
Besides my system had been broken since my last bout with a heartbreaking muse.
Yet, you still thought a kiss and a promise that you would be there was enough
And it was
Your kiss was like lightly cool rain on hot summer's day
The humidity from it made me feel ten degrees warmer
And you touched my face like I was unique
Painting me **** with your fingertips
How can a girl resist?
Feeling like she is safe in the same place she is warm
When it comes down to it you always feel safer with space heater, not a refrigerator.
And each lip tip and finger kiss makes me feel not alive, but worthwhile
So when you said I could count on you how could I say no to a lingering cheek kiss and your promise
You were willing to ("practice") making a life with me
Thats what it means when you touch me
It means that you might (maybe) someday love me
But I have been here all day
Its night now
And I have a feeling that you have forgotten all about me
Aly Fatal Sep 2010
So.
Yea.
About that night...
It was great.
But now I can't look at you
Without seeing how you made me
Feel...
intensely
good.
I bumped into you again
so I could feel your smell
Making its way down...
****!
Um.
Was I going to ask you about the homework
Or if you can still hear your lips on my...
I think it was the homework.
Aly Fatal Sep 2010
Today I looked down at the dark side of my hand, saw a freckle and I thought of you.
I never knew you lack the back of my hand
Always a foreign country
I knew you like your like your sleeves rolled up and your chest pushed out when you teach
I knew you like golden forearms working and your smirk as you looked up at me
I knew you like your copious black lashes and pink lips etched onto my fingertips
I knew you like knowing just what to say to make you want to hit me
And just what to say to make you want to kiss me
I knew you like this (like you)
But its been awhile since I’ve forgotten it
It didn’t hurt like I expected
Now I wait for someone to know me like:
I eat every three hours or else I am going to be grumpy
Or baby why don’t you put on some socks for me
Like my affection is judged by the sonority of my kiss on your cheek
And somehow still love me
When I look down at the side of my hand that can’t ever know how  skinlust feels  
I think of you and think of how you knew me like the winner of a spelling bee
After long hours of study
And maybe someone (out there) knows me like flower for a honey bee
Instinctively
Aly Fatal Sep 2010
Its the pitter patter of our future getting ready to crawl into bed with us
But waiting instead
Right out the door
For us to decide to let it in
We never do and before its too late
Passes in a heartbeat
After I’ll ask you if you heard something
And you will be too entrenched in the smell of my skin to say yes
You heard the end
But it won’t be over yet.
Aly Fatal Sep 2010
I want to dissect the space in between growing up and being an adult
I want to see the heart as it beats its desperate beat of not enough
I want to see the lungs that save their breath because the worst thing to ever happen has not happened yet
I want to see the brain that has just started to question the belonging that was inherent in every held hand between friends
And I want to see the vestiges of the tales told to children that made them believe that growing up was wondrous
But which shrunk in the face of an evolution that explained away the magic in the world and told us that real life was good...
enough.
I want to dissect that space and see it before growing older starts to feel like growing colder
I want to dissect that space after falling in love is only about unscarred hearts and tiny little steps of faith
And then I want to keep each piece
Cultivating and grafting to get the perfect hybrid of knowing that things sometimes don’t work out and believing that anything is possible
Making my monster out of childish this and adultish that
And I want to give it life
Flinging it out the window
And then maybe wondering if it has wings.
Aly Fatal Sep 2010
I want to nibble up the inside of your leg
Tasting the  the scent of your skin
Like a final tally leaving acceptance as the victor after too many bouts with denial
Like a wish fulfilled that was kept tucked away in a box of familiarity
I want wrap myself up in you
Noting everywhere where I can feel your breath catch along my skin
Highlighted in heat, ready for any erstwhile quiz
I want to fashion your curves into vessels perfect to find my tongue in
With only the sweetest hint of your sweat breaking out like dew drops on your petal skin
To tempt my buds
I want to run my fingers through your fountain hair drawing your neck out for its first date with my lips
I know its never been like this for you before
Your back an arch to cover the hands of the faithful and I want to put my hand against it and hold you close like a prayer bead
Feel you tremble with the feeling that for the first time falling may not be such a bad thing
For once chaos won’t attend to each flutter of your eyelids, delicate as butterfly wings
And it seems every one of my nerve endings was waiting for the sound of my name falling off the edge of those dulce lips at the end of your shudder-breath of giving in
It hits me with all the fire of the sun falling on the horizon in six different shades of red

— The End —