My clothing brushes softly against my skin
as the pole grows warm under my tight grip
I look to you to see if you approve
your eyes show you do my shirt starts to move,
down it goes falling off one shoulder then the next
my lace exposed your lips twitch with fear
but my face becomes soft and your excitement comes to play
in my six inch heels and my fishnets, I am the display.

One look and her
******* eye pierces
me straight through the heart
in one blow the blood
rushes through me
I feel my knees giving
in and I fall
to the ground
I kiss the ground
she walked on
I breathe the air
she breathed
but that's as much of her
as i'll ever receive.
She will never be mine.
Not completely.

The fireworks in the night sky
only remind me of the feeling I get
when your skin brushes against mine.
*You could light up any dark sky.

...and now i'm searching within myself to find my deficits,
you seem to have spotted them easily,
like laced cobwebs along untouched bookshelves.
You say our pieces don't fit together,
we're both puzzles but i'm from the wrong box,
mostly scattered along the dusty shelf.

Your body is the poem,
written for the soul,
though these thoughts may escape you,
this is what makes you whole.

Your toes find comfort when they're buried in the sand,
your heels provide strength when you feel you can no longer stand.

Your knees are there to break your fall,
your legs keep you moving; walk proud and tall.

Your hips carry your body to music in the night,
your tummy releases butterflies when lovers unite.

Your chest holds the ***** that loves the world so fully,
your throat provides conversation when you are scared and lonely.

Your lips find sweetness in that sinful drink,
your eyes reveal the universe between every blink.

Your body is the poem,
written for the soul,
remember to nourish it,
take over control.

I left New York to travel the world,
gain a better sense of myself,
change those around me.

I left New York to make a difference,
help the sad and lonely,
spread love, show forgiveness.

I left New York selfishly,
to follow my dreams,
make them reality.

I left New York,
my coffee now cold,
next to my heart,
I miss my home.

Intoxicated.

Together we would be
                   e l e c t r i c
Honest from the juice that
makes our hearts weak
and our minds
                  unforgiving.
Exchanging sweet words
and giggly glances,

Intoxicated by
                    *each other.

Louis Vuitton brown,
Chanel black,
Classic McQueen,
i'm surrounded by such luxuries.

If I lost it all,
i'd be alright,
I really don't need to be in the spotlight.

I hate this poem.

He kissed the ocean's surface,
sent his love right out to sea,
because his lover left him
in the heart of Italy.

Reading in the grass,
my head resting on your chest,
one hand in my hair,
my head rises and falls,
as your lungs take in my scent.

You put the book down,
roll us over on our side,
I pull the grass out of your hair,
your hand falls down the length
of my spine.

No distractions,
just me and you,
my body against yours,
we've nothing better to do.

Your hand wanders under my shirt,
now it finds my breast,
my face buried in your neck
and I lose my breath.

I'm under you now,
your eyes wild,
hair's a mess,
I can feel your heart beat with mine,
like they will jump right out of their chest.

The heat of the sun keeps
our bare bodies warm,
and your teasing lips leave
me begging for more.

The scent of the flowers
(or is it just you?),
sends me to the most euphoric places
I never before knew.

Now i'm in control,
couldn't wait any longer,
you deserve to be pleasured,
lay you gently on your back,
now you're all mine to forever treasure.

Kissing the parts of you that you despise most,
letting you know just how beautiful
you truly are,
wordlessly caressing your soft skin,
my lips moving down,
your heart caving in.

You let out a sigh,
a breath of fresh air,
I know you want more,
your muscles tense,
now i'm sure.

As far down as I'll go,
I look up for approval,
your eyes look longing,
your body's agreeing.

I lower my head to your sweetest scent,
i'm hungry, my heart's been starving,
you're feeding my love.

Your body, it shakes,
reacting under mine,
your muscles releasing the darkness,
allowing the light.

My lips find yours,
a breathless, 'I love you'
comes in through my teeth,

nothing left but the fluttering
of butterfly wings in our ears
and the hum of two heartbeats
releasing lovers' fears.

She had the soul of an untamed lioness,
wild, free, on the prowl,
not for prey to satisfy,
but for beating hearts to rip out.
To chew it up between her teeth,
she chose mine to take the beating,
smiling all the while,
never swallowing that part of me down,
heart strings played like harp chords
between her jaw's steel grip,
she'll rip me apart
and I'll love every bit.

I never needed to touch her
to learn her soul.

You can tell me all you want
that this is really my life,
that I was blessed with such wonderful people
that I would defend to the death,
you can tell me all you want but I will
still find it hard to believe.

I promise you it has nothing to do with the fame,
nothing to do with the spotlights,
nothing to do with the names.

You can tell me this is my life,
but I will always be in this fog,
because if it were all for the fame would
I care to see their true colors? No matter how
dark they may become? Because I find it beautiful,
raw, and I don't think that would come with a self-centered
fame *****.

Yes, I want to change the world.
No, I don't need any form of fame.

You can tell me the rest of my life
that this is my actual reality,
but I will always say that it is too good to be true.

She thinks she is a ghost
but she cannot see that her body carries
the soul that nourishes the universe from within.

When I concentrate
the ache goes away
and I am beautiful
with my ribs hiding
under this flesh
the extra body heat
that is so unnecessary
and I know the mirror
tells me lies and its
my brain that tells
me otherwise but the
act of resistance is
an addiction;
to deprive myself
is an obsession I
can't break I can't  
heal it's a disease its
a paradox, like me,
nonsensical, there is
no substance to it
only absence, no
release, there is no
relief.  The  voices in
my head are screaming
at me to not give up
to stay away to keep
my distance.  The more
I resist, the more
beautiful I become.
Does it tire me out?
Does it keep me alive?
I persuade myself to
believe that I will not
lose myself resisting
but then I am empty
and I feel the dark
engulf my soul that
fades away and my
mind begins to fight
with me, myself, and I
and then I realize that
I love the way I hate
myself not that I am
loving myself because
I have lost myself
I lost my way and
before I heal the fear
creeps in and hysteria
takes its toll and there
is pain everywhere and
I become completely
dark so that the light
can sneak back in and
light up my sky once again.
But I know the ache
always makes a reappearance..

Another poet's words slammed into our faces,
crushing our bones with truths held like fire,
a burn on the hand but worth every sting,
running in circles from thoughts we can't speak of,
knowing what the other is feeling,
why can't I hold you when inside you're weeping?

We connect, you can't deny it,
arms brushing one against the other,
heat surging rebuilding shattered ribs,
sewing my lungs back in,
allowing me to breathe again.

Reverberating words from raw poetry in our heads,
I  can see it in your face, the relevance they had,
you lie falling next to me, I know they're still there,
why are you letting her get you down when you know i'm right here?

Dreams overtake you, dead asleep in the night,
the darkness can't consume all of your light,
you're safe with me as we loll asleep,
my fingers laced in your hair to wake you from dreaming.

Don't leave me now,
your scent lingers in the air,
i'll stay cuddled in this blanket forever,
i'll pretend that you're there.

The echo of your words keeps me warm in my slumber,
like the poems we silently cried together over.

I asked myself if I did that,
as if I had been sitting here before.
"Was that me? Why don't I remember doing this?"
and I think who it was who sat here before me,
where are they now, how was their life affected by
drawing two lines on a desk,
what knowledge were they
distracting themselves from learning?
How did my life change by fixing the line
so that it was straight?
Why is any of this significant?

What do we know of that is infinite?

                My love for you,
                the time I want to spend with you,
                the way I gaze at you as you pretend not to notice,
                the laughter shared when our bodies have lost the energy necessary to form coherent sentences,
                your apologies for things that never need apologies,
                how you accuse me of passing judgement when in reality every detail of you that I discover sends my heart into shock,
                your scent,
I want your scent in my lungs *infinitely.

I am jealous of:
the morning sun that sneaks through
your curtains, shining.

I want to feel broken,
broken by you.
Not because you're not
mine, but because you are
mine. In the
middle of a huge fight.
Screaming, slamming doors,
chasing after each other
fighting. Fighting so long
and so hard that we no
longer remember the reason
for starting the fight. Or
who started the fight. I
want to hurt because of that.
And then, amidst all the fighting,
we do realize that we don't remember
why the fight began, and we look
at each other, we pause, and
we laugh. We laugh because
we know how crazy we are being,
we know that whatever it was that
we were fighting about isn't worth it.

*I wanna hurt because we love each other,
not because we don't.

It is as if someone has taken every
single one of my poems about you
and plastered them all over the walls
in my room.

Every which way I turn I see my words,
my feelings, on display for anyone
who cares to see.

I want to tear them down, but they are stuck,
they are forever, they were real feelings,
they were put into words,
by my own two hands.

I feel as if I have betrayed you,
I didn't mean to,
I want the best for you,
but now I am so afraid to lose you.

Stay in my life,
I will find a way to get these poems
off the walls,
I will find a way to make the feelings
disappear.

Let me stay,
I want you near,
everything is wrong,
you misunderstood,
I couldn't help it,
my heart felt too quick.

The poems are bleeding,
the ink is evaporating,
you're breathing it in,
it's a poison.

I have betrayed you,
make it stop,
i'm losing control,
I can't stop the words from melting,
your words are cold as ice.

Let me stay,
it can change,
we will find a way.

There may be no fire,
but that doesn't mean
there is no substance.

Cracking ribs beneath rotting flesh,
punctured lungs from shattered bone,
losing breath beneath lover's grip,
the heavy burden of accusations thrown.

My mind has been caged for so long,
my soul longing to escape it's grip,
my ribs are breaking open,
my heart will never quit.

My lungs have found the air again,
my bones no longer stiff,
my muscles have begun to stretch,
my fingers are fully equipped.

My words begin to flow again,
like rain clouds breaking the drought,
i'll dance in the thunderstorm of emotion,
as my thoughts come pouring out.

She handed me a rose,
its stem studded with thorns,
when I swept my hand gracefully toward it
she forced it roughly into my palm.
She pressed down hard, breaking the skin,
and as the blood began to run down my arm
she turned around and laughed at my pain,
breaking my trust with one single act,
but as she walked away I followed
with my head held high I continued
to let her stab me in the back.

The sun masks the darkness of the earth,
just as her beauty masks the darkness of her soul,
blinded by the light, she cowers away in fear of reality,
******* the life out of her by rejecting what's true.
There is no balance that she seeks,
heavy shadows are cast over her eyes,
blocking the world from seeing her soul,
refusing to let in the light.
She let's herself be free,
takes off her clothes to be caressed by gloom,
dances by herself with ease,
and in the dark, illuminates.
Without the light she learns her way,
finds herself within her soul,
sees what's true, blindness succumbed,
she has become completely devoted to darkness.

no sleep at night
      with you breathing
slowly by my side,

I have to leave the bed
      to control myself and
steady the thoughts in my head.

5:32 a.m; walk outside
      to the mist consumed
field,

thinking i'm alone,
      you sneak up behind me,
taking my hand;
      our fingers now sealed.

your hair catches in the breeze,
      my face brushed with your scent,
everything your presence brings
      puts me at ease.

your hand moving up,
      you pull my face in,
my lips on yours;

      first kiss with this dawn's
      mist as our only witness.

I need 10,000 tomorrows
to make up for wasted yesterdays.

You told me ghosts are make-believe,
but how can you dismiss this feeling of emptiness,
a hollowness that grates itself against my bones,
sending surges of unspoken pain through every limb,
rupturing the veins that keep me alive,
you have left and now i'm deprived.

The ghost of you remains in my mind,
your scent lingers in the air wherever I go,
i'm still finding your hair laced carefully across pillowcases,
your shirt lies on my cold, hard floor,
my arms ache with longing,
yet you say ghosts don't exist,
and I have lost my sense of belonging.

Not fighting it,
letting it happen,
letting the darkness of the water fill your lungs,
letting the weight push you down,
sinking slow at first, faster as you lose consciousness,
no pain, just numbness,
thoughts being erased,
your soul escapes your body,
now you are free.

That's you out there,
completely exposed,
lying sprawled across the double yellow line,
trying to keep it all together,
but you've already lost control,
your eyes are empty,
they lost their light,
I can see the dismay,
what are you doing to fill the void?
The cars may come,
their lights will shine,
they won't stop to help,
they won't see you,
it's too dark and so are you,
their tires will crush your body,
you won't be able to take the weight
and then you will be nothing.
You can't just lie there hoping it will change,
get up, move,
it's your life,
don't let it waste away.

At the other end of the line i'd hear you humming
and when I'd point it out you'd apologize and you'd
let silence create a void.  You'd tell me to speak or hang
up but all I wanted to say is that I didn't want you to stop
and I never wanted you to apologize.  I was always calm
with you on the line, even in our silence.  I miss your hymns.
Why did you stop calling?

Keeping a safe distance,
although I don't know why,
when all I want is to stop her fingers
from writing notes
with fingers that are mine.

Slicing my arm open,
what a lovely thought,
red blood oozing out of every cut.
But i'll never have the courage,
instead i'll lay and dream,
pretending death will soon come,
whispering in my ear,
as I walk into the city street,
standing in the middle with no fear.

This darkness that's engulfed our youth
will one day be devoured by the light
that is slowly being discovered,
through words of hope and love and wonder,
where strength is found in turmoil,
where mistakes were once taken for weakness,
the children of today will blossom,
and create a safer world for the children of tomorrow.

As a bird sings in the heat of summer,
confident and proud with balanced harmony,
free to fly on the breeze so slight,
so does her laugh ringing true to her spirit's light,
the passion inside of her burning so bright.

As the sea rises and falls like the moon each day,
bringing forth the sun to reveal flowers blooming on trees,
petals fall effortlessly from each outstretched branch,
just as her eyelids, fluttering shut with silent dreams,
as the night begins and moonbeams fill her face with ease.

I found a lucky penny,
I put it in my shoe,
now every step I take
will lead me right to you.

Resting my head on my hand,
the ticking of my watch takes my
focus away from my lonely heartbeat.

*Tick, tock, tick...

No running water,
just the sweat on children's backs,
they cling to her leg,
disease clouding the air,
they breathe in the heat,
and they sleep in fear.

Five hours they travel,
empty hospital beds await,
she fights for his life,
a seven year old boy,
he still laughs at her stories,
he begins to call her 'momma',
he knows she'll visit again in the morning.