acknowledge me. seething with tumultuous needs, the crispness in your cocktail dress sways fingertips, interstices of unscrupulous overuse, the deep accreditations you accreditted to our use. The oral collages of fogs synthesized sacrilege. Organics and the ultramodern. Speak ballet with me, turn your head sideways while I look at you a new amazing way. Write your future in the dna of my hands, I read the secrets off yours.

Sophomore year.
Spring break.
Crying.
Why can’t I stop?
Just stop it, ******* it!
You’re being pathetic.

Ding Ding
It’s a text.
“Hey! You free tonight?”
I didn’t think he’d text me.
I can’t.
It’d be wrong.
“Totally. What’d you have in mind?”
Oh no.
What’d I just do?
“I could pick you up around 10 and maybe just chill?”
10?
Pm?
Why so late?
“Yeah. Can’t wait!”

Tick
Tick
Tick
Tick

9pm:
What do I wear?
What do I wear?

9:45pm:
Put on eyeliner.
Put on mascara.
Put on lipstick.

10pm:
Okay.

10:05pm:
Where is he?

10:10pm:
Just wait.

10:15pm:
Should be here anytime now.

10:20pm:
Just a couple more minutes.

10:25pm:
Give him some more time.
I can’t expect him to be here right away.

10:30pm:
Is he coming?

10:35pm:
Did he forget?

10:45pm:
It was a joke.
Funny.

10:50pm:
Ding Ding
It’s a text.
“Hey, I’m here.”
Open my window.
Crawl out.
Ouch!
A nail  was sticking out.
Blood.
Blood is dripping down my leg.
It's okay.
He's here.
He's here.

What am I doing?
"Hey, you look nice."
He thinks I look nice.
"Thanks."
We drive.
And drive.
And drive.
Where are we?
It’s dark.
So dark.
I hear crickets.
And his breathing.
His breathing.
His breathing.
His breathing.

What is this?
A shed.
Abandoned.
“Sit down.”
Where do I sit?
It’s so dark.
I can’t see.
Where are we?
Where am I?
Where am I?

His hand is on my thigh.
What’s he doing?
“You’re so beautiful.”
He can’t see me.
I can’t see him.
It’s so dark.
“Thanks.”
His hand is higher now.
I should’ve worn pants.
He’s taking off my underwear
My package bought *******.
What’s he doing?
What’s he doing?
What’s he doing!
Do I like it?
Is he happy?
I want him to be happy.
Just let him do it.

His breathing.
His breathing.
My breathing.

It’s gone.
My underwear.

Oh my god.
Just sit here.
It’s okay.
He’s here.
He’s not going to hurt me.
He can’t.
He won’t.
It’s okay.

He’s unzipping.
What’s he unzipping?
I can’t see.
His hands on my *******.
I don’t know what to feel.
What do I feel?
What should I feel?
What does he feel?

His hands on my bare legs.
I flinch.
“It’s okay.”
It’s okay.

It hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts.
Stop please.
Please stop.
I can’t take it.
I can’t take it.
Stop.
I want to be happy.
I just want to be happy.
I want him to be happy.
Just be happy.
Be happy.
Happy.
Is he happy?

Tick
Tick
Tick
*Tick

Has this ever happened to you?
Strange that it happened to me...
I came across a stranger I never thought I'd meet.
Stranger has a journal
Stranger let me read
And inside of those pages seemed every word was written to me.
Yet I had never met this soul a second of my life.
Seems they have written  a response to my every move over time,
Wrong or right,
Stranger knows me.
Stranger apparently not,
Journal showed me...
What do I do now?
With this feeling I have for them?
If I carry it out I'll surely lose again.
There's a pattern in that journal
I make the same mistake that hurts me
So naive I just fall free into anybody's arms who I seem open up,
And when they close and I hit the ground and I break I want to give up.

Stranger told me

Stranger knows me

No need to think inside.

"I already know things, you dont have to hide, I wrote everything. I know your kind".

Feels like 3 days but its only been one.

Feels like my place in darkness is done.
Feel like my face is finally enough and my ways are actually going up.


I know better
Its too good to be true.
It didn't happen to me
Maybe it'll happen to you.

You turn moments into flaming time
Air to passion; your flesh becomes mine
I'm alive in a way I've never existed
Any desire no longer resisted

You belong to me outside of time
Forever beautiful and forever mine
My goddess is the one who set me free
I am finally alive now that she
is with me.

052710~10.55p

The Silence

The bubbles
that hover above our heads,
bursting with words
that are scratching and tearing to get out,
create an eerie sense of foreboding.
Yet the words will not come.
They are trapped in a wrapper
of love that prevents us
from saying what we must,
And yet,
the wrappers are transparent.
We can see them and feel them
even though we dare not speak them,
but we choose to ignore them,
in case maybe
they will just float away.

Fragile
Pale
Paper thin
Who she was is hiding within

I cry
And plead
Through quivering lips
As her essence slips through my finger tips

Her soul
Her heart
And Her mind
Disconnected all this time

So I pray and pray that she may stay
One more day, I say, just one more day

1439

How ruthless are the gentle—
How cruel are the kind—
God broke his contract to his Lamb
To qualify the Wind—