If I could connect the dots of goosebumps you get when I scratch your back, maybe it would make a map showing me where to go from here.

If you asked me to stay like you ask me to not stop scratching your back, maybe I couldn't resist you then either.

If I had a flashy screen and an explosive soundtrack like an xbox game, maybe you'd want to play with me more.

If I were as rich and sweet as a bowl of your favorite ice cream, maybe you'd have to have every last bit of me and crave me long after I'm gone.

If cancer hadn't destroyed essential pieces of my womanhood, maybe I could give you what you tell me you want to fill me with.

If you could explain to me the reasons you only sporadically intertwine your life with mine, maybe I could stop imagining the worst possible things about myself that must be keeping you from intermingling our lives.

I had forgotten all the bonus feelings that came with true hope
Giddy like a teenage girl going on her first date
Happy like a kid catching the ice cream truck
Excited like a toddler at Disneyland for the first time

I had tried to forget all the downfalls that came with true hope
Fear like a child trying to sleep in the dark
Anticipation like a pageant contestant waiting to hear the
judge's decision
Anxiety like a politician on election night

I've had hope where the results far exceeded my
wildest imagination so that the words to describe it
didn't exist
Hope that was smashed like a bored little boy jumping
on an empty can
Hope that shriveled up and blew away like a
tumbleweed in the desert

And hope came and went again

How long have I waited to hear it from him

How long have I felt it

How long has he felt it

How long has he had to resist letting me hear it

How long before it either takes us further or
implodes on top of us

How long will the status quo be enough

How long will his whisper ring in my ears

How long before I hear it from him again

How long before I never hear it from him again

I can't tell if you have any idea how
much of my heart and soul you're
packing with your things.

If you don't, I wish you'd let me tell you.
But you won't. You'll say, "Save your
breath, I know what you're going to say."

Your right that I do need to save my
breath. Because it feels like you're
packing that too.

I'm trying not to cry, and to put on my
happy mask that you like, But I can't
find my happy mask right now. I think
you may have accidentally packed it
with your things. Or was it an accident?

Either way, it's gone. If you come across
it, please bring it back and help me
cover this gaping hole.

Sometimes I feel like your own personal life-size GI Joe doll, or rather, action figure. Only with *****.
Sometimes you want to dress me up in what you want to see me in and take me out to play.

Other times, when you're not in the mood to play with me, I'm shoved down to the bottom of your toy-box.
From there, I can only watch which of the other toys have been lucky enough to be chosen to entertain you today.

I was already used when I came to you. Second or third hand from the thrift shop of souls. But I was new to you, and you were new to me. And we reveled in each other like it was Christmas morning or your eleventh birthday.

But the newness has worn off and you're bored with me. I hope you notice the smile on my fixed, yet malleable face if I do get to go on an outing, even if I never make it out of your backpack. If not, maybe I could be new again at the thrift store on bargain day.

The sun is coming up so big and bright and bold that it feels like I could just reach out and grab it and put it in my pocket for later. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need it later.

I think he took his sun away for good. I tried to keep his sun shining. I tried so hard to keep it lit. But no matter how hard I stoked the fire, he kept me in the dark.

Somehow, I got so busy sustaining his solar energy that I didn't notice my own sun going out. His appeared so bright that I forgot I needed the warmth of my own. I don't know how long it will take my sun to heat up again.

Now it's as if I'm stumbling around a dark house during a power outage, searching for the emergency flashlight and hoping the batteries aren't as dead as we are. I think he used it last, and he never puts things back the way he found them. Good thing I grabbed the sun this morning and put it in my pocket for later.

Just touch me and that first electric contact sparks a chaotic chain reaction of desire for the next touch in every place I can be touched.
In other places that will never be touched, knowing that the desire will never be sated is almost too much for this eager body to tolerate.

Just touch me and my trembling body opens to you like a flower stretching toward the sun. The center of my femininity oozes hotness like lava from a volcano.

Just touch me and all my inhibitions drop to the ground like dry, shriveled leaves fall from the mighty oak in autumn.
I become free to completely accept your touch as an ongoing gift to my ever hungry body.

Just touch me because I'm not always certain when the next touch may come.
Your touch can be as elusive as a four-leaf clover in a field of green. Sometimes your touch can last so long that it becomes as vital to me as oxygen.

Just touch me because you want to.
Just touch me because I want you to.
Just touch me because you can.
Just touch me.