I lay flat on my back
waiting for it to be over
but I want to still feel it
the rawness of my body being used
there is a certain romance in it
an addiction to being wanted.

Have you ever felt enthralled?
Shaken, surprised, mystified?
Proud, sad, relieved?
I feel them all at the same time
because of the way he feels
because of the way it makes me feel
because of the way I think it makes me feel
because I don't know how it really feels.

I am no ******.
Throw me in front of the pope
flames will burst on the floor
but I have no real feeling of it
I just like being wanted
I just like thinking its love
when I'm really pure to the thought.

Leaving my finger prints wherever I go,
marks being left.
Maybe someday when I'm great
all the walls, stairwells, trees, doors
will whisper of me.
Of the time my prints grasped theirs and for a moment
they were support.
One day, I'll trace back
all the places my prints have been, touched.
To the statue, to the muddy banks of the Mississippi.
To the Unique Marker Yacht Club, to the Gulf.
On a ship or on a plane.
My hands themselves have told of my existence.

All I see is a bright light;
A soft, whispering light that is calling my name.
"Come to me," it says in a woman's voice,
"come and see what I have."
I want to walk toward this siren but my feet,
they are chained to the ground.
"I will not wait," the voice in impatience.
I try to scream out and say
"I am here, please wait!"
The light now moves away,
rising to the dark, cloudy sky.
The tears that start to run down my face
evaporate the moment they fall to the ground.
"Wait, please," I try and scream but my throat
closes and no sound is able.
The light leaves and all that surrounds my chained body
is darkness.

Your voice vibrates,
the movement making my skin rise.

I'm scared of what is to come,
from the first touch to the last lingering kiss.

And when its all over,
what then? You leave?

Now I don't want to think about it
at all. I just have to worry at some point.

I'll be alone for the next three years
and then I go and pick you up and everything is the same?

Why are you so much?
Why am I so in love?

Even when I’m alone,

I feel as though you’re near.

I shudder not of the terrifying breeze,

but because I feel your presence.

Anytime, anywhere,

everyday, every year;

constant guidance,

fulfilling life.

I still wish that you were there

to wipe anyway my tears.

Only a little while longer

till I see you again.

Is every word you say a lie?

Every moment we spend together truth?

Cause all I see sitting here

is someone hurt, then someone oblivious.

One person sits at their computer,

looking and waiting for the online green.

Eyes droop, ***** sweat,

hair frizzes, nails chip.

One lives their life in denial,

not caring what the other feels.

Money spent, laughs heard,

gas burned, not a thought.

This is hurt

This is aggravation

This is disbelief

This life