I told him I loved him.
Even though it was clear that he couldn't hear me.
I told him in the dark so that it would be impossible for him to see me.
I asked him if he felt the same way with my eyes closed.
So that just in case he said no,
I wouldn't have to witness his lips speak the word.
I asked him if he needed me.
And even though I knew it wasn't so,
I was curious as to if he would say yes to amuse me.
To soothe me.
I told him I loved him in the dark with my eyes closed,
So that if his ****** expression rearranged to one of confusion,
I could revert from the pain and paint an illusion behind my eyelids
Of a tropical island
Where it was just us.
I asked him when I'm not around does he feel that something's missing.
And as I realized the fact that he still wasnt speaking back,
That I had been falling while he was merely slipping.
But I admittedly take the blame for the cause of all this pain,
Because you never think to ask permission.
Yet, he stole something so dear to me without a scolding.
My heart was now in his possession and my heart he'd been molding.
So I had to let him know my love for him was pure,
And still I'm not sure that he knows it.
I then opened my eyes as he stood there frozen,
I came to the light and that's when I told him,
** I want my heart back.

I am not in the business of being you
or him or her or they
we doesn't even really interest me.

you hated me within the first 20 minutes
like a shallow predator
experiencing virginal danger
you have the limbic system of a prey
obvious to anyone in touch with their senses.

you were threatened-
you cracked a joke and among
the robotic laughter and among
the generic thoughts
I stood back, blank-faced
a novel piece of art you haven't the ability
to muster up the courage to understand.

aloud, I said it wasn't funny
which I'm sure your emptiness already betrayed
in a booming, and terrifying fashion
(I'm an intellectual sadist-
I get off watching you squirm)
you know enough, that you have no basis
that the status quo is the stale stream you do nothing but soak in.

you're superficiality is so pervasive
that your thoughts are unfilled, plastic
discarded long ago by anyone with stamina
(you're a carbon-copy of a Xeroxed person)
looking the same as the others of your degenerate breed
with much less vibrancy than the original
and far less worth.

your boundaries have been in place for so long
passed down by
generations
of
generations
of
generations
great-great-granddaddy's barbed wire is the only thing protecting your prejudice.

you're not funny- you're scared
ashamed and lonesome.

ashamed of the person you wish you could be
but don't have the strength-or the guts
to morph into
lonesome because even yourself is someone you don't feel close to
you are so basically human.

I have no pity.
**for you are no Muse.

Touch me the way you did before.
Say my name the way you used to.
Let me forget the horror
Of this new reality.

Just like Icarus I flew too close,
Too close to the radiance of you.
Now I lie broken bodied upon the rocks
Of our happy past.

Look at me with those longing eyes
That used to beam with love for me
Take me beneath the sheets of this new world,
And embrace me with a love long gone.

Say my name, call to me
In the sultry tones of the night before.
Wake me with the tender kiss
That used to pull the breath from my lungs.

Let me not lie alone,
Not like this,
Broken *****,
Broken hearted.

How high can you fly,
With broken wings?
How far can you fall
With a broken heart?

All I wanted was a cigarette.
We weren't allowed to smoke.
He knew where to go.

We swept sidewalks together.
Raked sand together.
Talked about life together.

His window was across from mine.
I think he saw me changing once.
Maybe more than once.

He was getting dishonorably discharged.
I didn't think he was a good man.
I didn't think he was a bad one, either.

It had been two weeks since I landed in Monterey.
I only wanted a cigarette.
He knew where to go.

I bought the Southern Comfort and bottom shelf gin.
He carried them with him to his room.
I didn't think anything of it.

We raked sand together.
We ate lunch together.
We watched movies together.

We sat on a makeshift bench by the ditch by the installation fence.
We drank and smoked and laughed.
I taught him Farsi and he taught me Russian.

Russian for "hello" and "goodbye."
Russian for "This is allowed."
Russian for "This is not allowed."

I think he saw me changing once.
He tried to kiss me on the cheek.
I told him no, my boyfriend wouldn't like that very much.

We smoked some more.
We drank some more.
We laughed some more.

It was 2130.
I had to be in my room by 2200.
He said not to worry, I'd be back in time.

I insisted and tried to leave.
I fell to the ground.
He didn't help me up.

I only wanted a cigarette.
He kissed me on the mouth.
I did not kiss him back.

I was immobile.
Paralyzed.
Drugged?

He kissed me again.
And again.
And again.

I did not kiss him back.
I had a boyfriend.
All I wanted was to smoke and drink and laugh.

He grabbed me by the ankles.
Pulled me over the ditch behind the army barracks by the installation fence.
I could hear soldiers coming back to their rooms.

I was paralyzed.
I always thought I would fight.
Fend him off with car keys stuffed between my fingers.

I looked up at the tree branches above me, my watch said 2147.
That was the last time I prayed to God.
There were leaves in my hair and dirt on my arms.

There was something less than a man between my legs.
It looked at me with hate in its eyes.
We swept sidewalks together.

God kicked back and swigged a PBR
     while I was ***** behind the army barracks,
     over the ditch by the installation fence.

He helped me up.
I couldn't stand on my own.
How sweet.

I vomited by a tree.
I was disgusted with myself and him and God.
I wanted to drown in Southern Comfort and bottom shelf gin.

He walked me to my barracks building.
How sweet.
I made it to my room by 2200.

All the girls watched me stumble down the hallway.
I was so violently alone.
Taps wailed outside the window.

I left my hat by the bench by the ditch by the installation fence.
He brought it to me the next morning.
How sweet.

He stole every piece of me
And now I am his.
Living in this fear and anger
Of the man who stole my innocence.
He throws around pieces of me
As if I'm his to give away.

He tells others how I cried
When i begged him to let me go.
He laughed at the way I squirmed
To get away from his reach.

I'm forced to relive
Every second of that night.
Scenes flash through my head
Like a picture show.

The hard kiss.
His hand up my dress.
The smirk on his face.
His forearm on my neck.
Him inside me.
The look in his eyes.

Everything comes back
When I see his face.
I lose my breath
A cold sweat drenches me.
Numbness covers my body.

I can't breathe.
I'm drowning in my own insecurities.
But I need to be strong.  
I have to go on.
I can't let the Thief have the rest of me.

1)
A simple gesture of happiness.

2)
A substance more fake than plastic.

3)
A reason why love is so abundant.

4)
A reason why people believe.
A force stronger than any words.
A swift move into a land to drift off and watch as glistening teeth and a perfect smile pull you into a breeze past reality.

5)
I wish I could always see your smile.

Smiles.

Unlace your shoes and step to the side;
I'll do the same.
Borrow my worn out soles and
Stretch them over your aching feet;
It's okay if they don't quite fit.
Make my body yours,
My toes, my long legs,
My stomach, my *******
My collarbones, my hair
But most importantly,
Take my eyes.
Take the eyes that have filled with fascination
Whenever you step into view.
Take the eyes that have soaked up your personality,
Grasped it with bare hands and never let it go.
Take the eyes that squint every time you humor me and
Never seem to shed tears.
Take the eyes that have noticed your every flaw,
Seen you almost every day for the past ten and a half months,
And still look at you
With fascination.
Stare into those beautiful brown marbles,
Pay attention to those tiny specks of green...
But, don't forget to look through them.
Because if eyes really are the windows to our souls,
You must be the most beautiful person on the planet.
And if we really could trade shoes for even just a moment,
Maybe you'd realize it, too.

Math and Mouth, are so easily confused,
when I'm speaking to you.

I want to say Math, but my eyes on your Mouth
make the vowels all switched about.

So I say the wrong thing about my Mouth Final,
and I pray to god that no one noticed.

But I have a strange feeling, that you did,
because your lips twitched.