your split-lipped compliments are
boulder-heavy with caramel
undertones,
while i’ve got my basic stardusted
collarbones
and dancing fingertips;
ink stained and lust-conforming.

you’re stitching your ideas
onto my cerebellum,
and as i cry ‘foul!’
you fly away like
you’re free.
spit speckled with blood
and my dna,
you laugh and cry and kiss
like you’re mine.

dreams are growing
like wild flowers, and babe they
make me itch for some sort
of way
to alleviate the pain.
but people claim,
that these moments
we spend are never going
to be more
than little discomfort
and i dare say
that they’re wrong.

my body is not weather proof.
it will wash away
in the rain,
so hold me under your umbrella
and keep me
by your side,
because that way
if all else fails
we’ll wash away
together.

its like i'm in a wooden box and i have no idea how to escape.
it isn't that i'm claustrophobic, but the demons want to play hide and seek,
but i have nowhere to hide.

i often ask myself,
where is my mind?
it goes to places undefined.

it crawls through cracks
and opens the door.
to a room i am unsure.

it replays the thoughts
that were not there
my brain feels so,

so sad and bare.

your eyes burn with crimson desire,
i'd like to wrap my arms around you
and hold you close though i may perspire.

you haunt my dreams with unbitten tongue
and take my heart close to your soul.

i want you to be mine.

your breath left burn marks on my skin
your kisses tasted of strawberries,
smothered in whiskey.

your words made my brain overflow with love
i felt the blooming long before you knew,
it was love.

love is a temptation
with bellowing whispers and,
glassy eyes in the shadows.

love is another "please don't go",
an "it's for your own good",
another "goodbye".

when will it end?

the rough texture on his fingers
from putting his soul into his art
his guitar, all black and shiny
a piece of art alone, extra special when he plays it
the warmth of his palm
i trace the lines that cover it
making an 'A' on the center
i clasp my hand, interlacing our fingers
rubbing my thumb against his
i kiss him
nothing makes me happier
than the simple feeling
of his hand