I guess
I just
Want to feel something;
Anything really -

Fingertips tracing,
Lips meeting,
Touch after touch
Eyes searching,
Cheeks flushing

I guess
I just
Want to be something;
Anything really -

Alive,
Broken,
Torn apart
Engulfed,
Important

I guess
I just
Want something to happen;
No, not something,
It
Whatever 'it' is

The heart does not ask pleasure first,
It does not crave the feelings of passion,
lust or desire

The heart does not ask pleasure first,
It is not considerate to the essential realism,
The morale of the mind

The heart does not ask pleasure first,
Instead it seeks only to be felt,
Whether it be pounding
or merely ceaseless ebbing

The heart does not ask pleasure first,
It asks for pain, for despair,
for anything to provide a reminder,
that it is always there

I constantly try to control
what I say,
how I say it,
who I may hurt or embarrass
with my words.

But ****
it seems the more I try,
the worse I sound,
I speak words of total *******
I write poems filled entirely with *******

I worry so so much
about my voice,
that I forget what it feels like to just  
speak -
so d'you know what, tonight,
***** it

I find myself,
in a pit of total denial;
'I do not need anyone,'
I tell myself this each day
and this is
the first lie.

'You must wait'
As though this will provide me with some comfort,
as though this will ease the ebbing in my heart and
render me cold no longer -
this is
the second lie.

'Strength is  found through resilience',
I apply this to feelings of anything,
Banish any thought of anything other than the
emptiness I deserve to endure
and this is
the final lie.