Morning slips in
like a wide-eyed child
at my bedside,
I roll over
and smile,
ready to play.

I remembered today a recent memory repressed.
I recall how my scared mind yelled when it happened,
It is technically in!
Oh my God, it's gone farther!

It's technically not considered ****,
it didn't go very far.
But I felt things I've never felt before,
and I've done a lot of things.

If his underwear weren't there,
it would have been ****.
But his underwear was there,
still I felt my privacy and lifestyle intruded,
and I still don't know what to call that day.

This was the day he left me.

It's like getting suffocated.
Hands around your neck,
squeezing harder,
and harder.
Yet it's not hands.
It's words.
Words you say.
Things you call me,
either straight to my face,
or behind my back.
Those are the words,
that suffocate.

(e.k.j.)

They always say not to let your happiness
Be dependent on something
Or someone
That can leave in an instant
But that's exactly what I find myself doing.
You are the cause of my smile
And the repellent of my frown.
The way your touch covers me
In a seran wrap layer of
Happiness that warms me
Both inside and out,
The way your voice ignites
A fire in my cheeks
And unlocks the cage to a million insects
That fly around my intestines
Bumping into the walls of my organs,
That is something I have become dependent on.
I don't do this,
I don't let down my walls
Usually.
But then you came in,
And knocked them down with every sledgehammer of a smile,
Every bulldozer of a kiss,
And now you're the remodeling team,
Repainting
And heating
The darkest room in the house.