I can't process this.
I can't process this.
It's too loud and
and the sound has cut out.
I can't process this.

We touch. We vibe.
Has me shaking with delight.
It's electric. It's fire.

I want to touch more of you.

We ****** on Easter Sunday
It was awkward Monday
We basically
gave Jesus the *******
and split.
Didn’t even bother to kiss…

You just tied my hands round my back
Whispered ‘do you like that.’
I don’t know.
I don’t what this is
But I’m feeling pretty
Bliss-ed out
Not sleeping on your couch.

Since then I think of that night often
After all,
you resurrected my libido from its’ coffin.
knew you were a real man
When you didn’t wipe the blood off your hands
When it didn’t make you sick
and you didn’t come too quick

Am I **** if I **** a ****?
It was quick.
And I said never again
Let’s be friends
But now I think about it
too often in the night
Wonder why I think about

When we’re not meant to be
and lately it feels like
you’re scolding me
with your wide eyes
silently commanding,
leading me to a locked room
to undress me.
Oh **** I want it to happen again
Oh **** being friends.

I feel so restrained
Waiting day after day
jumping on ever opportunity
when you flirt with me
Lovin every second our
secret camaraderie.

Cause it’s fun. it’s a game
And the dynamic is different but the same
Not talking about what we did
on Easter Sunday.
Cause **** Monday.

You pulled my heart
Out like a wrench
I just want to
start over again
Build something
Kind of different

I changed my name
to a pseudo name.
I don't know if it's empowering
or sad,
but those poems aren't me
anymore.
Once they're out
they're behind me.
I want them to exist as standalone
treatises, free from me.
The only reason I
would attach them
would be for attention.
I don't want that kind of attention.
I don't want them to know me.
I can't say...
what I want to say.
It just doesn't feel safe.
It just doesn't feel like there is space.

Not waiting around
for you to decide
whether
this is wrong or right
I'll take dates
to spite...
you.
Despite
wanting
just
you.

They're placeholders.
It's fine.
It's exciting
when you don't
care and just
put yourself out there.

Shouldn't you care?
Or does a small part
think
it won't turn out
well.
Oh well.
Oh well
I keep telling myself.

I keep it to myself
and I keep it small
little mentions
here and there
enough to intrigue
you to want more.
I'd never bore you
to death I'd ****
myself first.