She wants to love intimately
To feel a mess of hands
Run up and down her back, thighs
And through her hair.
She wants to feel hands rise up
Her shirt and cup her *******
To feel at home in the arms of
Someone new

And yet she lays so very still
Alone in the early hours
With a red face and dry eyes
There is no one by her side
And her thoughts overrun her

She wants to love intimately
And yet she no longer knows
What to feel
No experience, no expectations
Just a mess of hair
And bedsheets
As she lays alone in the dark

(2/21/17 || 12:24 AM)

That first kiss...

Caress of lips touching
Warmth of breaths mingling
Sweetness of tongues tasting

Ignited a fire within
That would burn for all eternity

Why did I try
Why did I fall
Why did I listen
Why did I friend
Why did I help
Why did I stay
Why did I love
Why
Why did you hurt

I painted you.
With trembling, amateur precision,
I suffered each line on your face.

Each fleck of sun,
Your candid smile,
Your immediate beauty in the foreground
Of an exceptional ocean.

Stumbling blindly through the days,
Fumbling for the switch
In a punch-drunk, love-sick afternoon.

Apart from you,
Stripped, exposed,
Laid prone on the gurney
With my skull in a vice
And a fist to my stomach.

I can barely stand because of you.

I painted you this afternoon
So I could toil in your gaze.
Pray I am an interesting splatter,
A noticeable blight;
A happy accident on your page.

Never have I ever heard
anyone say they hated music
I asked her again and she said
'I hate music!'

She hated music
because it reminded her
of her tragic past after
every lyric in her head
it drowned her thoughts
that filled her with dread.

She hated music
because it reminded her
of love because she
feels that her love
isn't good enough...
for anyone.

She hated music
because it reminded her
of unhappiness
when she tried to listen
to an instrumental tune
she would be gloom
as the beat mimics
the sound of her
fathers beating heart
before he passed away
until then she fell apart
and felt her life was
going to be doomed.

She hated music
because it reminded her
of the good old days
where she was young
and nothing was
stepping in her way
although there were
songs that would say
in life things will change
and you don't always
have it your way.

She hated music
because it reminded her
how people created it
and she said that some artists
don't make songs for
great motivation,
but sadly it's more like
great desperation
she said it must be easy
for them to do all of that
just to get famous
although it doesn't do
everybody any good to
improve their daily
situation.

She hated music so much
that it made her jump into
conclusion which made her
so ticked as she look back
at it now it got her sick.
she asked me
why do people listen to music
when all we can do is ignore it?

She listens to every genre
of music from
many different artists
and she still isn't
interested
as she clutch
her hand into a fist.

She realized now
that she is free from the lyrics that weighed her down
and the rhythm that drags her back around
she believes that without music she would feel
safe and sound.

he grabs my leg and his claws sink into my barely-there thigh
his hand slips in the denim of my jeans
and when he kisses me,
it tastes like venom
i feel his toxin slither through my veins like a serpent
his ardent fangs gleam as he nips my neck,
and i know that he is the true definition of vermin.
my blood, red as cherry currant
crosscurrents with his slimy soul
his talons delineate my jutting ribs,
surely, he craves the control?
i writhe as he caresses the inside of my upper leg
and i realize,
that this will never end