one pair of sweet lips,
wishing they could be tucked over mine
two engaging eyes,
ones i can never look away from
wishing to keep them matching my gaze
one nose,
perfectly complementary to the outline of my face
when you come close
so come close
closer
so much closer.

Close enough so I can smell you
your soft, warm, comforting, **** smell which I crave too often
Close enough so I can feel the warmth of your body on mine
Lying here with me, nothing exists but you and I,
The warmth of my blankets couldn't compare to the fire burning in your eyes
touch me. hold me. feel me.
feel us, entangled, intertwined, naked, warm.
nothing between us.
no barriers.
no clothes.
no phones.
nothing.
skin on skin.
*warmth.

these are the two truths i know:

good things are about to happen very soon - i can feel it in my bones -

i will soon be very utterly alone - i can feel it in my bones -

i am trying to stay closer to the ground
clip the string that keeps my heart flying in the clouds
come back here, silly fool.
there are bags of rice attached to the soles of my feet
they've been weighing me down for quite some time
i am living both in the clouds and sinking into the earth.
i have found no balance.

to the core of my bones,
in their very marrow,
there is an ache that will not quit.
there is a longing for something more.
more more more than what i have
more always more
but more of what, i haven't a clue.

i need to learn to fall.
and then to get right back up.
instead i am lying here bruised and battered still fighting the battles that are long over
the soldiers have all gone home to their beautifulwivesbeautifulchildren

i am sitting here alone in this field
with tall grass that will soon blanket me and empty bullet shells.
and i will lie here. until the white winter comes and covers me as well
only to be found in the springtime by a pair of wandering lovers.

sitting on your lap
curling up small.

i attempt to dive into your chest
swim into your heart and make a
corner there for myself
to hide and keep warm.

Your bow tie is a blade
and your lips are a question mark.

head swinging off your star covered
               bed
we are swimming

*I miss the way you taste

I was born in December
with hair black as the night sky
and skin white as the moon
so my mother named me Deana.

there is a struggle to be in control.
contained.
to keep him happy.
to indulge myself.
the routine broke. it’s breaking.
consistency is a fleeting temptress with eyes reflecting your most controlling self. i will step out of this realm. transcendence of self and *******.
look within myself and past lovers fights tears kisses strife when you called me this and i you that.
pull out pick apart deconstruct.

- reconstruct-
what you wanted and what really happened.
where we were and who we have become.

you can not watch it through your window.
moody
you can not watch it patiently from your lonely tower.
dive into the mess. consume. burn.
burn it in.
this. this is all you’ve got.
burn in the mess consume and be consumed.

are you exposing yourself to true pain?
stayed faithful what is faithful.
stayed true what is truth.

do not look away.
eyes will get smeared. soft tears and daggered realities.
do not shield your eyes.
do not pretend you did not see it.
do not pretend it did not hurt.

i don’t want you to read my poetry and say ‘aw’.

I’ve been wanting to cut it shorter for a while,

but was worried about how it would look.

I wouldn’t be able to hide behind the tresses anymore.

No more veil for my tears.

But how long could I live in my sheltered little world?

I’ve finally began peeking past my rose colored curtain,

so why not have a physical representation of that?

Just a couple snips and it’s gone. Just a few chops and it falls.

Deep breath. This feels good.

This is good.

Fresh start.

To a new beginning.

You looked at me with interest
something new
you are old
wiser art
wandering soul
teach me
I can be your school girl
I know it’s what you want
(secrets shared at 5 am)

You looked at me as if I was something fascinating
silly interest
writing poetry
smoking your cigarettes
inhaling the darkness
of our combined souls
and my purple neck

Quizzically
as if I were some challenge
how to please me
how to make your mark
please make your mark
on my body
but be careful of
my soul

Deeply disturbed
longing
we are alike
too much pain behind those
light brown eyes
and you look at me and joke about love
when I worry about commitment.

You looked at me with interest
and I wonder
how long I can keep up
this ruse.

There is a quiet defeat within me
whenever I accept one of your apologies.

how many of his actions are calculated blows to my chest
how aware is he of his ability to destroy

how aware is he of his own destruction

red lips. flushed cheeks.
you're getting all dolled up!
she looks at me. really looks at me. sees through the heat.
smiles knowing my insides don't match the pretty picture. looks at me.
like i am something fantastic. spun from fairytales.
sewn in glittery patches across ratty old jeans.
her gaze hits me. you don't need your hands to slap.

the silk is unraveling and revealing imperfections. she stays. she watches.
more heat comes from her gaze than my fires.
the air is thick. mouth drops open. eyebrows scrunch.
incoherent sounds release from my lips. she sits. observes the show.

she takes me in. all of me. even the parts idon'twanthertosee.
and writes. and listens. and examines.
she unravels my fantasies and spins her own story.

taking time for your crimes
and duty to a citizen that mattered to you
i don’t want to write you anymore letters
he can **** my ****, stupid boy
granted, points were made
i won’t say it you dumb ****
i’m here in my house my sacred palace and
he disturbs disrupts dead bolted to the front door
what is a dead bolt
i ****** my professor in the middle of the night
quick call on call praised and given As

do you know how you make me feel

and how i sat on the cement
in the freezing cold
in the pouring rain
with my ripped tights
and short black skirt
feeling like a ****
or something close
with my tongue wagging
and eyes filled with confusion
and fire
i didn't care that i would
probably wake up with a cold
and most definitely regret this
tomorrow
or that
at this point
i might as well have stripped naked
because it wasn't
doing me any good staying in drenched clothes
and my boots were soaked
as my eyes had been for days
and months
before you came
and you were staring at me
the way you always did
that ******* look UNDID me
for so long
****** everything that i had planned
to feel
not to feel
to the point where i could
redo that face
myself
to myself
in the mirror
analyzed you to a T
you who thought you had me figured
out head to toe
i know you better than you know yourself
take that ******* elsewhere baby because
i've had enough of it
what i thought
what i said went something along the lines of
cue: blush
cue: eye flutter
i know you do
you always have
cue: shy smile
yet i still sat on that moldy ******* concrete
with goosebumps on parts of my body
i didn't even know i had
bones drenched
soaking w e t
and ******* for another 4 months.

Slow sleepy raindrops drip on my head
they form a little puddle then slide languidly down each strand of hair
it is a slow process
drowning

She breathes against my neck. It's a slideshow of sounds growing and falling around me. I don't know where it's coming from. Her skin slides against mine like we are a piece of machinery, working towards the same goal. Keep moving, keep moaning. Her hips bucking and my hand over her mouth to keep anyone from hearing us-- from entering our world. The wind is knocking at the window, trying to throw us off. I grab her chin with my hand as the other grabs at anything it can reach. Her eyes are blurry. They have a hard time focusing on mine. Are you scared, baby? I'll go slower. I torture her. Make sure she's paying full attention. Make sure she's losing her mind. Her body makes waves against mine. We lose ourselves to each other and the wind keeps trying to get inside.

growling behind squeaks in the blue wood
perhaps too late
it feels silly to create a separation in which
depending upon the hour
it goes sour or it sticks
persevere and it will be
springtime yellowpinkgreen
t(e)n((d))e(r)
o o “o” the shape
the sound air makes when it is being pushed out through gritted teeth
i am interested in the ways abstract art makes its way through my brain and picks up pieces of you and him and them and her
a water__Fall

this is not the time for this but
what can i do
i am sometimes powerless and
usually
not—

we play games—
scenes of debauchery—
you place upwards
and we crash against each other like waves
rumbling quick and messy
with spurts of pain and pleasure in the spaces we meet.

a word is sharp like metal
concepts are dulled and i can easily
but not without scars
run away from this.

i’ll explain away your stars
your scars
why we fought
why we stopped fighting
trace my finger to your date and attempt to give voice to unspoken expectations—
bartering my trust for your love.

give me the width of your shoulders
your hips
your knees
your feet
so that i can figure out a way to place myself with you without falling through the cracks.

portraiture.
sweet tooth.
rotting away my teeth.
bitter aftertaste.
indulgence. indulge me.
inhale decadence.
exhale toxins.
cleanse deep.
she knows. she knows. he does too.
but he always did.
new to the game.
red lipstick razor blade.
cut you open. let you spill your guts to me.
incorrect patchworks.
inaccurate intricacies.
spillage on highway 505
where we left our beating, ****** hearts.
lit up with gasoline wine.
fast ignition on a mission.

for your neck.
failed wreck.

Okay
Tell me I'm cute
Tell me I'm adorable
aww, what cute bows you have in your hair!
You like having your dominance in public.
That's fine.
But let's see who's cute and adorable when I haul you over my lap and spank your ***.
Still cute?
Yeah
I didn't think so, little boi.

I want opinion. I want to fight.
I want. I want. I want.
To matter.
Silence is a piercing shriek. A deafening blow.
I don’t know how to handle it.

-forgetmenots-
he is a bouquet of forgetmenots and cigarette ash.
remember when there was no bed.
remember when i was so happy you were here on the floor with me.
forget me- he has.
always saying the worst before he goes. sticks stuck in my mind.
make a mess. you’re going to make a mess.
forget me- he does. but never lets me do the same.
remember- i do, forgetmenot.
but i will forget. the forgotten always forget.
mossy dead bones. green grows on even the most forgotten trees.

dreamy lover boys. remember when remember when.
remember when i said goodbye.
remember when you said take care.
remember when i hugged you too tight.
remember when i walked away.

there is an i and a you in this story
and both are quite scared.
this makes for an interesting
plot line as the directors
have been saying// just listen to them *******
rave. and the audience
the !!audience!! can't wait
to see what'll happen
next. they have a stake in it. too.
>,/,/../
the i (being me of course)
is more nervous than she has ever been
(the silly girl)
because for the first time (in as long as
she
can
remember)
she is being treated
with respect
and the way she
deserves to be treated.
on the other side of things is the you (and
of course that is the other protagonist
of this lovely story
the king,
my
frightening ******
my scary sweet
my terrifying tease~
you who is stable in your beliefs yet
so unsure at the same
time
and that worries the i in this relationship
to no end.

-trust-
my darling is the last thing
i thought i could feel for
someone again (yes i understand
that this might be hard to believe
since the whole process
of me handing over my trust
to you has seemed
completely flawless--
but i assure you, my sweet, that

i make things look much
easier than they are

yet here i am
trusting you
…….?????!!?
carefully and willingly cutting open
my chest,
pushing my hand through
the imperfect incision,
and pulling out my
bruised and beaten
beating heart.

would you like a side of fries with that

i don't deserve a sticker anymore.
my tears flow too freely. they know no
discipline. they need to be trained.
hold back. hold back. hold back *******.
-restraint-
hasn't that been the key
word in our discussions
hasn't it been the key the k e y

sassy *******
i just don't understand
i'm not like that i can't do it
i don't understand
trick question
help me understand
i want a ******* sticker
you're irreplaceable
i got emotional
………….
--i miss you a lot--

she says this and the i
shuts up
stares
tears start flowing
goodbye to the ******* sticker
will the i tell me what's really
going on in her *******
head >>?>>

or
will she continue
trading her eyes in for metaphors
and her mouth
for hyperboles.

you come to me unravelling from hiding spaces in moist wood
composting yourself as nature does
your head hanging low like vines
fluid as the streams running through me.

i: always convinced of my place as low hanging fruit,
see your streams and carry buckets for your leaks.
i am a fixer-upper.

the slow kisses that turn into hot breaths exhaled into each other's throats
biting at your lips thinking i can pull out your words. stuck in your head. with the blood i draw
the marks i make are war wounds, baby, and i am proud of each vessel i pop
purple looks good on you. what a ******* color.

beat beat through the silences and internalizations. the anger and the insecurities.
******* trample that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach that makes you feel like you are nothing but the skin on your stomach.
you are not just the skin and tissue and chub on your stomach.

lovely, you are more than your stomach. and your ray bans. and your binder that does such a good job at pushing in what is unwanted and pushing out the breath from your lungs-- your very sustenance.
my dear, you are more than your eyeliner, or lack thereof.

you are more than the way you ****** me last night. and this morning.

pretty ,darling boy. i want more slow kisses that turn into hot breaths. more lip bites drawing enlightenment. blood slicking the tips of my fingers from exploring.

i want morning breath dreams still entwined with your exhale onto my neck. bickering mom and daddy.
who knew we had voices other than moans. who knew gender theories would cross our lips and *** analyses would be common car topics.
the "fffffffff" you make in bed also start the sentences of your fury. yelling at the gas station ****** who misgenders you.

******* *******, I JUST WANT MY **** CIGARETTES.

the rumbling of your vagabond heart gives me hope.
your fingerprints a seasoned dew striped with the pink and buggy dawn.
before the sun rises
before the world is lit with warmth and fear
here in this wet foggy moment
you emerge from leaves
soft and sticky
nourishing
offering yourself up to me//a feast in all its glory

everything in it’s place
the lawn mown
the grass left greener and fresh to grow again
as the sun rises and falls
the world spins in the hands of a toddler with a top
big eyed hopeful
luminous
round cheeks and belly
warm and humane
love is lost love is found
love is lost again
a whirlwind motorcyclist

yes, i will find myself one of those.
he will ask me to latch on to his leather-sleeved toughened arms
soft and hard
gripping rough and black
my motorcyclist
worn and weathered
take me into your heart and
into the stars
straight for the moon
sweet soft girl
tender hearted studded
bejeweled princess
rest your weary heart on my shoulder
no safety but my love in this moment
grab me

a synesthete
i swallow our memories in color
pink when you touched my tattoo for the first time
your fingers sticking to each line as if the ridges were stairs you were careful walking down
as if i was something you were ever trepidatious about.
grey for seeing you again in the car
with rap blasting louder than my thoughts
i was thankful for that
green for lying on your velvet couch
clutching myself so i didn’t fall apart
all over your apartment
careful not to leave an arm in
your bedroom
my stomach on your kitchen chair
.a rainbow.
prickly beads of sweat around my eyes
that is not what you noticed
instead oceans of what you needed
from me.
grey grey . grey . a sunny sort of rain.
a gloomy apetite.

She was a flower that had opened its petals too wide.
Had known sorrow and felt pain.
She grew heavy with the weight of the world.
Felt each soul as it was being slain.

Her once fresh, delicate scent was bitter now--
They put her in the back of the store.
Felt herself going down under.
She was the sea that some learned to love.

It was a test to show how much she could suffer,
and she got praise as she took the blows.
Love was the hand that pulled her up before she plundered,
and showed her there was more to be known.

After every phone call, I feel like writing poetry.
Tell me why that is, there is a problem here
"I love you so much!", you say slowly,
And everytime, I say "Goodbye" with a tear.

You make me feel so useless, so confused
You make me feel so love sick, and used.
I write these poems, I try to rhyme,
While you go out, party time.
I'd like to see us together!
But I know that'll never happen
I want to be your forever,
Guess not this time.

At night I like to rest my fingertips on the protruding hipbone that is still covered by a fleshy layer of cushion. Of fat.
Why do we shy away from that description so often?
Fat.
Those three letters haunted me more than anything for the past 7 years, and I would hear it all too often.
And when I didn't hear it, I'd see it in their eyes.
I was not like the rest of them.
No Abercrombie for this pudgy middle schooler, and no eating candy unless I wanted to be ridiculed and stereotyped.
But not until my senior year of high school did it finally get to me.
I stopped eating. One almond at most and nothing else.
Fat.
Fat.
Disgusting.
Shameful.
Ugly.
All synonymous in my head.
Now it's completely different.
I embrace my beautiful body.
Every curve, every scar, every red engrained stretch mark.
I wear them with pride.
I take off my shirt for my lovers without fear or shame.
My body is bigger than societies idealistic and impossible standards of beauty...
And thank
God
For
That.

Holds me. ******* shakes me. Stop stop no more. Come back. It’s okay. You are okay. You are with me. Holds me to his chest.
Do you hear that? My heart. My love. Do you hear it’s steady beating? You, my sweet, will be fine. His words. Echoing. Swimming through every stream I am. My blood.
My love, my blood is filled with your name. And in my tears, you are. Languid and wet. Streaming down.
You are everywhere, my love.

is there a predetermined time for the both of us/ are we fawning over minutia/ are we flaming over small kindling/ i know this is ugly i am fully aware but ugly is a ****** up trope and i play into the best and worst of it/ ****** up ugly femme with a hold around your messy boxers//my messy heart

tight grasps ====
tight grasps ======
tight grasps ====

<> hold on to this belief <>

simple complex lover.
hard softy. tough sweetheart.

the space between never and again.

luxuriously placed bruises.
you’ve gotten a lot brattier since the last time
.honestly.

i am sick of you
greedy you take take take
i am never alone you take (from) me
greedy ******//soul sucker
i do not love you anymore
i do not love you anymore
but you walk around everywhere
i saw you dancing the other night
you pushed me into the bathroom
ripped off my tights
pulled up my skirt as if I Was Yours
******. i was yours for 15 minutes
you will never be mine
i saw you outside for a cigarette
sucker
watched you watched me walk away
i am never alone

got down on your knees i thought you came to pray
got down ripped my tights further worshipped my **** like your
savior
i was never Your Savior
i have been tossed around into unappreciative hands
unworthy palms
you are no different
he is no different
she is no different
they are no different

sometimes i get confused if i’m using you or if you’re using me

a sounding board. slow ‘i love yous’ // creamy peach slow ripe i used to run far ahead pulling you
now i’m trying to run away
your sweet tongue haunting me still

i am tired of you GREEDY ****** and the memories of the slow *** we had

-  weak -

9 pm terribly.
this lump in my throat.

2:30 pm.
this lump in my throat.
icicle grass cracked beneath my feet.
i wanted to take off my boots and feel the ice between my toes.

- weaker -

4 pm.
heavyheadedheavyeyed after work.
missed. wished i could call.
but my fingers were too cold to find my phone.
ran home so i could feel my heart pumping rough against my chest again.

- weakest -

9 am.
snowing nightmares outside.
i'll walk naked in the white streets.
feel each snowflake melt on my ice body.
lie in glass grass and laugh at my teary cheeks.
pink. flushed.

where did she go off to?