She moved towards me like silk moves in a breeze. Her glow was soft, yet strikingly strong. Eyes brown and big like an oak tree in summer with rays of golden sun stung throughout. She moved as if an angel slowly awakening inside her. Her long brunette hair shimmered as it gracefully fell along her shoulders resting upon her *******. I would call her body smooth like softly blown waves in the sea, but no justice would it give to her. Her smile could make any woman stop in her tracks, just to appreciate the glorious happiness it brings. Her laugh brings joy like the peace nature brings in solitude. A total eclipse of winters cold, only allowing warm spring and summer. Hips a sailboat rocked by a beat only she could know. Sweet kisses with lips that taste like the most perfectly ripe fruit. Her hands touch as water does; politely gracing your skin and leaving you with droplets slowly fading. Her glance love-filled as a lover of many years might look at you. She is beauty from the inside out; she is graceful with every step; she is everything I want, and so much more.

I hurt.
There are no other words to describe it- at least not while my head is pounding and my bones are shaking.
My skin covered in gaping wounds, bruised and blackened until I do not recognize myself
My bones, broken.
I hurt.
It hurts worst of all to know that there is not an end to my pain,
that even when I sleep I ache all over,
blood oozing from cuts and scrapes and caking my skin as it dries.
I hurt.
She is a healer,
all sunshine and sugar,
tea made with honey,
She has a voice soft as silk and her hands are calloused and cool against my feverish skin.
I hurt, still,
She cannot fix what I have broken,
She cannot heal my injuries,
but she tries.
I have been to healers before her,
all of which have given up when they realize I am a lost cause,
the gaping wounds spread out across my skin will never heal,
they leave to pursue a life they can save,
an affliction they can heal.
She does not give up,
her tired hands gently press a bandage to my cuts,
clean my wounds,
and sew them up.
It is not much,
it will not stop the flow of blood,
or the waves of pain,
but she will press her gentle lips to my forehead,
and do it again in the morning.
She is so sweet to me,
all the tender relief of a cool seaside breeze
and I love her.

I loved you but not in the way where
Your body becomes an ocean under my palm
And your tongue becomes the treasure I have to find
And your hands become the gasp of air before I drown in your moans

I loved you but
Your body has no cave to dive into who’s walls are filled with the wetness of the ocean breeze from your breath on my neck
And your chest has no curves like crystals on the sea floor I swim to just to hold them
And you have no gills that protect the entrance in which you breathe life from
           No gills in which you must rub the right direction

I loved you but you are the man on Earth and I belong with the mermaids under the sea

so, it is known that your skin regenerates every 27 days.


after 27 days, your touch is no longer on my skin.
after 27 days, my skin does not know your kisses
or his.
after 27 days, my hands have not met yours.
after 27 days, my thighs have not felt your fingertips.
after 27 days, my neck doesn't know the tingle of your lips
sometimes tongue.
                                       -for my new lover

It's been 426 days since October 15, 2017.
my skin has regenerated almost 16 times.
yet i still feel you
your hands
on my waist
places
everywhere.
my skin has not known your touch
my skin has not known your love
my skin has not known you
so why do i punish my skin
that hasn't even known you?
                                        -for the awful epitome of a man

Do people actually fall in love?
I've never wanted to dance
in the road in a rain shower
with a man so beautiful
he makes my chest hurt.

No one has ever made
my heart skip a beat,
except when it was fear.

Do people actually fall in love?
It all seems like lust to me.
Lust is such an empty thing.
Love is supposed to be warm,
Burning hot, even.
It's supposed to make you feel full.
But lust is all I see,
Like a match,
Intense and fiery,
But fleeting.

It's not love.