the award for 'best sense'
goes to Touch.
let me prove it to you:
I can survive without
/seeing
/hearing
/smelling
/tasting
and though I'd love to see your eyes spark with passion
and though I'd love to hear your happiness when you succeed
and though I'd love to smell your aftershave in the morning
and though I'd love to taste your kisses created for me
I would rather cut off my tongue or gouge out an eye,
than live a day on this earth with no hands of yours in mine.

it's in the way we'd bleed black and white,
and how i'd still come running back to you.
all the words we left unspoken and now
tangled in silence, but i still keep your letter
next to me; ink stains all over the tips of
my fingers, laced in the corners of my heart

you'd mouth the songs they played
and i'd taste the lyrics on my tongue,
voices sugar sweet and dripping;
how it felt as if i had already
loved you for an eternity

one step forward and three steps back
now i close my eyes to see your face,
trace your skin to heal these scars;
maybe this is the only way to go when
i said i'd find my way back to you somehow

(A.H.Z)

I sought a small space called quiet
and silence found me
wrapped me up with comfort
held me gently with the strength of a mountain
healed all the way through me
loved me as a child
married me like a spouse
rejoiced and danced
carried me into eternity

I'm always played out,
now, pulsing in my hard shell,
hungry hopeful thighs,
unstoppable but sometimes very slow
mind.

I've no one to
address these to, come to
the window and see.

Give me a reason
to let it all go, come and
make it make sense
and I swear I

have wings as wide as the world
to show you,
colorful,
penetrable,
hungry,
we will

rewrite the world

us two

one day I will make you dinner.
the next, I will choose TV shows
               over spending time with you;
then maybe next week
               I'll write you a love song
and after I'll forget
               to return your call.
some days I'll read poetry to your voicemail --
some days I'll be an hour late for drinks.

I am a sometimes-girl.
      the kind with too many pairs of shoes
               who forgets to water her plants and
               who will love you
               several days a week -- but
               maybe not the others.
and you need to know that I know that you
deserve
something better.

I will keep you waiting;
I will frustrate you, and
I promise, I'm not worth the trouble.

still, I hope you'll stick around.

the truth is no one ever taught me how to fix a flat tire or how to ask for help or what love was even good for in the first place

and the truth is that the cookie was good but the lemon icing wasn't and the truth is baking should be done without any kind of lemon at all

and the truth is i wish you'd hold me close enough that our skin fused together and i could burrow into your spine and learn all the things you won't teach me

and the truth is you were never good at making eye contact but i dare you to look at me long enough that i can trace the line that connects your iris to your pupil and count how many shades of black a person can produce

and the truth is i don't know if the grass has fingerprints but i know that yours are cigarette stained and no better at letting go than mine

and the truth is i am a dump site and you are an inhale and i am clockwork and you are a melody and i can't keep my teeth off your eloquence

and the truth is my feet are covered in acrylic paint from leaving smudged footprints in sparkly things

and the truth is i don't want you all to myself but you can pretend i'm yours when i'm engulfed in the ocean and making it hard for you to breathe

and the truth is i'm looking for a different kind of intimacy from you

and maybe it's just some teenage girl talking but the truth is that i want to drown with you. i want to burn with you. i want to scream with you so violently that the body that crushes my lungs crumbles and i become a balloon for real this time

and the truth is, if you hadn't called me beautiful, i would have mistaken last night for a paradise i don't believe in

I've been picturing your face
it comes and goes all day
I hope that you do that too
edeth piaf singing sweet
it takes away my grief
and then I float, a ways
down.
come home darling. I'm alone
my heart, it will never roam
I'll sing to you when you come
back
I've been desperate
to hear your voice, my love
but if I was gifted the choice
I'd take your breath far away
Oh,
hold me tightly when you're here
sweet darling, please do not fear
till then I'm fine on the shelf
and,
your love, if it fades away
I hope when you see my face
you remember and hold me
forevermore

what are you doing spreading rumors
when you know they metastasize like tumors
and that it'd get back to me eventually
maybe you aren't honest-not completely
we aren't broken up, you *****
even though it's what you want, you don't get your wish
you think you're the victim-he broke your heart
but honey he was mine from the start
he liked me first, second, and last
and maybe you were just his one and a half
i can't stop you from seeing him
that would make me a hypocrite
but keep your sickly sweet words to yourself
or better yet save them for someone else