******* has become a chore as of late
No one caresses my beautiful collar bones
And I ache I ache I ache

My dreams show me visions
Of people that I miss
And somehow in this timeline
I am never kissed

I feel that a vital part of myself
Is shriveling up and dying
As each day goes by and no lover brushes their lips to the back of my hand
Is this the last remnants of my ***/love addiction?
I haven’t experienced that wild reckless craving for another body to slam into mine in ages and ages
And I don’t experience it now
But rather a loneliness that scuffs at the dusty taupe floors of the echoing rooms where intimacy used to dance, supple and pliant
Now my intimacy palace sits empty
It’s been so long since the twinkle in someone else’s eye matched the twinkle in mine and I got to be bold as I chose to fall in for a moment with them
Since I met someone who touched that deep part of me
Or maybe that deep part of me has been sleeping for a very long time
The part that isn’t afraid to love, that remembers what a high privilege it is to connect body and soul with another
Maybe it’s waking up and as it does a maddening hunger for touch yawns wide in my center
Maybe I overused that privilege and abused my ability to connect and condensed millennia of intimacy into a few hours a week
And so it hid away from my carelessness
It sunk into the walls
Slithered under the floor boards
And waited until it was sure I wouldn’t over use, abuse and be careless with it
And now I think it’s starting to get sure of me
Trust now fills the air in these vacant halls and the disembodied bits of my intimacy start to come together
Creating a bit of a pit just there at my diaphragm
A pit that longs for lovers past
That laments my empty bed
But that also praises the new halls I’ve crafted for it


All this because I desperately want to text my ex
Or worse
Write her a letter
With a poem that praises her body and soul
That I wrote after she broke my heart
I want to mail it to her for birthday with a note that says “I wish we lived closer and things were different and you could be my wife”
I’d send it to break her heart a little because mine is still broken
I don’t think hers is  
From when we last spoke I know her heart is still high up on the shelf, hidden behind her guards
And I know nothing of what her intimacy palace looks like
But I wish I wish I wish
I wish I could meet someone like her
And that’s the rub isn’t it?
She’s still my high standard and she smashed my heart up

And now that beast of longing awakens and craves her so badly
The loss of her feels deafening even a year and a half later
How would I survive someone new? Who I loved with that kind of admiration, tenderness and force?
If it were to end? I’d have to place another gravestone there in my chest beside hers. I suppose I should just let her go, dig up the grave and send her into space. But then what will the beast of longing gnaw on if not her memory?
I’m afraid it will gnaw on me
Oh the melodrama

The feeling of brown grey trees at dusk
The sky is lavender or cornflower
With peach highlights on the clouds
From the low setting sun
And you’re running in the woods toward home
And you start to lose sight of your feet among the brown grey tree roots, the brown grey earth, the leaves, your brown grey shoes
And for a moment you feel a little spooked
The light fades beneath the blanket of trees
Though when you look up
The sky is so sharp and clear against the branches
But it provides no light
A breeze blows cool
And silence gathers around you in fearful clumps
But then I remember oh I’m running back home with my brother
And he too can barely see his feet
And we’re okay
And we had a great day in the woods

I love my people who feel deeply
And speak with their hand on their heart
I love my people who dabble in the depths
Every morning and night
I love my people who open their fingers
To let moments that no longer serve slip away
I love my people who have worked hard to find childhood
Who feel the joy of a six year old when they
Find a daisy on the side walk

Do any other bisexuals out there know what it’s like?
I’ve read in some blogs and Reddit threads that others feel attracted to men when they ovulate
And attracted to women the rest of the month
And mine is just like that sometimes
But other times it’s not
As the days turn long
And the evenings warm
I want to sink my teeth into a big hairy chest and be held by large rough hands
Even well into my luteal
But I’ve told myself
That whenever this retreat from *** ends
I must must must date a woman next
Because each time I date a man
Even a big one with a hairy chest
I still want a woman
Which of course brings me to my dream
Of having a relationship with both
A happily ever after throuple
It’s also been so long since I’ve been with a woman
Over a year
Maybe even a year and a half
That I barely remember the luxury of someone else’s breast in my hand
And then I think maybe I just want lovers here and there
And that in my 30s I’m still young
And that plenty of women have children in their late 30s and maybe I can have a little *** renaissance again
But this time without all the **** and the burying of pain
This time with presence and seduction and responsibility
It’s been ages since I’ve been ****** dumb
And with someone as high strung, smart and **** as me
I just think it should happen at least once a week
But I’m scared to go out there and get it
I’ll list my fears here:
That I won’t be able to attract a woman I’m sincerely attracted to
That a man, no matter how attractive, will turn out to be disrespectful and trite
That I’ll fall in love with a woman and then I’ll have to deal with pretending to not care what my mom thinks
That I’ll be jumping back into *** too early
That my still healing body and soul are not ready yet and that I should wait a bit longer
That I’ll keep waiting and nothing will happen
That I’ll get exactly what I want, my man and woman, a happy **** sweet kind funny loving relationship where we can grow and create life and dream and cry and laugh
And that somehow I’ll still find ways to be unhappy
That having what I really want
Will make me outcast
Or that in order to keep up appearances we will have to hide our truth

Oh the drama in these fears
And then I think well alright then I should just go for it
But how?
On apps? No
In bars? I don’t like bars
At the farmers market? In the city? But I like to stay at home and dance around naked and paint
And I don’t want to go hunting
I want to just happen upon my lover somewhere
But I keep not happening upon them

It’s stranger than strange to look at photos of me and you
From when we were together
In each photo I can feel my resistance
My confusion
This is my boyfriend?
I think he’s hot but not in a way I want to ****
I think he’s my pretty special friend
A beautiful muse
A unique and wonderful specimen
Someone I appreciate more than I can say
But the man I let in my bed?
How could it be you?
I kept expecting other people to validate my concerns
To see a photo and say really?
I don’t get it
But they didn’t so I’d think
Alright he must be right and we’re a good match
And I stayed until I met someone with whom I couldn’t deny sincere attraction
And that was the end
Of pretending to want you the way you wanted me

Whenever I get a lover again
I'm excited to give them kisses on the nose
And to feel the oils of their pores
And smell their skin
Their face skin and hand skin
I'm excited to be close and to touch and love and **** and laugh and do things I haven't done yet
I've had physical intimacy with so so so many people
And I wish at the time I had been brave enough to try to love them too
But they were like me
Which is why we met
They were scared and unhealed too
And they just wanted the blurry rush
The untamed ecstasy
The freedom of meeting a stranger
And taking a $17 potion
And ******* like animals

And now
I just can't wait to have partners I can hold close
And kiss their noses
And feel the smush of the nose skin
Against the cartilage from the pressure of my lips

Just recently I had a sort of lover
An almost boyfriend
And sometimes I think I cherished the closeness
I sobbed in his arms once about my dad
And him letting me do that
It felt like a great kindness at the time
And I think it was one
But it was a kindness I deserved

I could text him if I wanted
And have someone again whose nose I could kiss

But he's kind of a **** so I wont
Which is annoying

I want to meet someone who's not a ****?
Is that so hard?
Isn't it too easy to take people for granted?
Recently I found birthday cards from an ex who I loved and who loved me so dearly

It wasn't until maybe three years later that I
really cherished the way he treated me

He was a good guy, like such a good guy
But ultimately I wasn't attracted to him and he was very needy and it all devolved in the end and I hurt him a lot and he wanted me to be small

Today I saw my hot neighbor clearing out his car from the snow
And I fancy him
Or I want to anyway so I went out to clear my car
Thinking we might chat and laugh
Instead I just cleared my car and across the way he cleared his
And then I went inside because my hands were cold

And anyway, I promised myself I would
Date a woman next
Trying to go to community events to put myself out there
Desire

I used to enjoy the brush of longing against the inside of my skin
I don't enjoy it so much now
Restlessness and feeling empty for the presence of no one else around me
But I also just watched a sad movie about a woman who is dying
And currently my dad is
Maybe he's not actively dying
But he's got a foot in the door

But maybe the new treatment will work
Maybe he will be able to enjoy a burger again
Maybe I won't quake when he walks up the stairs

Though now that I don't live at home it's easy to pretend
That he's okay
To put him from my mind
And he would absolutely say that he's okay

I thought when I moved here that I would sit on the floor
And have a BIG BIG CRY about the pain
Of the past year

And I haven't had that big cry yet
That big relief
I want it
But I'm scared of it
Just like I was scared to tell
A hottie who I made love to countless times
That I cared for him
Because the one time I did open up and share about my life
I couldn't have ***
I couldn't even look at him

I think about him often actually
I think about that woman too
I can still see her hips swaying on the way to her car
She knew I was memorizing her waist in my shorts

I loved her with such abandon
And then she too treated me bad

And he did too
I don't know why they came into my path
And I don't want to be a victim about it either

But **** man
I memorized them
The way you memorize someone you'll know forever
Without even trying
They are memorialized in my mind
And no where
Absolutely no where to be found in my life

And they don't even exist how they once did
She is absolutely better and she is chaos
Truly terrifying to me and my nervous system
He's better too

I guess I'm much better than I was
And better that they're not in my life
She still makes me shrink
Him I don't care about really

I guess I should get her out of my energy field
Where her fingers and hips and lips and hair and scalp and knees and *** and ***** and ******* and freckles and neck still live

It makes sense, she is a love witch
I guess she put lots of love spells on me

Who knew this is where this poem would take me