Can we pretend for a bit,
                that every day is a bicycle waltz?

That every day is filled,
                filled with wine and whiskey love.

And skin feels like heaven,
               when no one is watching it touched.

That your body & my body,
               will never grow tired of the endlessness of each other's.

Everyday should be a bicycle waltz,
               With you my dear,
                                      *my immeasurable amount of intangible motion.

The battle in my head
It goes like this…

You know you wanted it.
I was not old enough to know what it was. When I was, I said no. He never listened…

I went to him even when he did not ask. I am at fault.
I loved him. I believed his lies. I trusted him. I did not know it was abuse.

I am dramatic. I am emotional. I am over-reacting.
He stole my innocence. He stole my childhood. I have every right to be this way.

He did not mean to hurt me. He loves me, maybe he just did not know how to show it.
That is not love. That is abuse. I was a child. I was not responsible.

Stop whining. Stop complaining. There are others out there who have it worse then you.
He bruised my faith. He destroyed my feelings of worth.

He loved me. He did not mean to hurt me.
It does not matter if he meant to or not…the truth is he did.

How sick and mess up must I be? I still care about him.
It is natural to be confused and conflicted. He is family.

Most of the time I did not say no or fight him. So I was telling him it was okay.
He was manipulating a child. I was confused. I did not know how to say no.

I must have wanted it. I must have led him on.
No matter what I did, he was the adult. He was not supposed to do those things. He was wrong. I was the child.

It was so long ago. How can I still be mad at him?
He manipulated my emotions. He was my daddy. You are supposed to obey and trust your father. He is not supposed to lie to you or do bad things.

Other people have been through worse. It could have been worse. So it's not really a big deal.
It was bad enough. I am entitled to feel violated. Trauma is trauma - pain is not a competition.

I should be over this by now.
There is no time limit on healing.
I must just be doing this for the attention.
If I wanted attention I would be telling everyone. I can barely talk about this.

I made him angry
So what? It doesn't make what he did okay

I am just imagining it.
I remember what he felt like when he touched me or made me touch him. I can still feel the weight of his heavy body on my child sized one. I can still smell his breath.  I cannot be making these feelings up.

there's a scratch on my left wrist
and it stares at me
reminding me
heavily
of the clearing skin around it.

never
have I
ever
won a game of innocence.

I tried to **** myself.

I'll never get back
the days I spent
drinking
cutting
smoking
drowning in hopeless fear

and I'm only sixteen.

Night is for the hours
Cowards,
Let a man of God speak or night
Will continue to burn flowers

It's been said napkins are the greatest currency
For it holds the food spittle of man
Like how ambulances sit waiting
To clean up after misfortunes
And make fortunes for the fortun-
Who Ate paragraphs of spider webs
And patted weaves like black men seating at the back of the limited luxurious Q46 bus nodding heads to the noise of Toyota cameras they couldn't afford in the land where they spend $300 million to part the seas for summer entertainment
While they only spent $40 on California cuteness and walked on water with 13 Jesus' and ate at the bottom of the sea with only three tokes from the plastic bag

Let a man of God speak or night
Will continue to burn flowers
For we graduated from 30 hot nights of mathematics
Only to find that the future will always be white and in the *******

I swear, goblins must have created you.
Made so pure, honest, stable, delicate.
Like a blanket you can cover what I’m
Ashamed to show, and provide to me an
Inner warmth otherwise unnatural.
You puzzle me yet piece me together.

The hem of your being gently caresses
my skin beneath. I'll be your comforter
and sooth you of all your worries, darling.
Don’t fret, for a new beginning rises.
Secrets whisper to each other, exchanging
in an ear -- a tavern of safekeeping.

Friendly benefits, beneficial friends
I’m glad “we” exists even though you do
remind me of her – wish I could hate her...
She is a mold of who I had become --
Shattered -- but now I can rebuild my world,
like a child playing with his new Legos.

I’d give you the world if I loved you enough.
This is just affection, care-free addiction.
Perhaps in a different place or time.
A bed would be nice, or even a couch,
but for now I’ll make due with this kitchen,
asking to borrow one of your kisses.

Sometimes I look at you,
and you seem to be looking back at me.
But sometimes you look away
as if you're afraid of what might happen
if you look just a second longer.

The way you keep looking back at me,
as if there was something in me worth seeing.
I wish I could envision the world
the same way you do.

Where everything is beautiful and new
and innocent.
Your world is untouched.
Immaculate.
Like a little kid.

But in some way, that's exactly what you are.

I want a girl who loves God,
likes baseball, and is the other pea in my pod.
I want a girl who finds sarcasm funny
and isn't focused all on money.
I want a girl whose smile shines bright
and who knows I'll be there for her day or night.
I want a girl who likes to snuggle,
and knows the difference between mudblood and muggle.
I want a girl who had similar television taste
so I know my shows won't be erased.
I want a girl who is tough but sweet
and is so fine she can't be beat.
I want a girl who understands why the last line was clever
and likes that I'm one of the most romantic people ever.
I want a girl who likes participating in every sport;
she doesn't have to be good, just give a good effort.
I want a girl full of internal beauty
but most of all I want a girl who wants me.