i told myself i would
not wait for love

but what am i to do
if he is standing
right here
beside
me?

Artists are often
broken people
using the fragments of themselves
to create something new
and although
being healed
feels so complete
sometimes i want to be broken again
sometimes i want open wounds
so i can use the blood
to paint sunsets
so i can use the torn off pieces of skin as a canvas
so i can carve
masterpieces with the jagged bones left behind
but I can't bring myself to break my own heart in the name of Art

The smooth slide of his hand
Against the smooth curve of her side.
The rush of every pent-up emotion
Let loose in the fiery thrill of their skin.
Gentle, yet raging, this want spread quickly
Through the once torn scars of their minds.