As your mouth twists against mine,
your hands, those beautifully
drag-race-burnt hands,
they twist through my hair
caressing my head, me. I fall into them,
like falling into fresh, crisp leaves in the autumn,
leaning against their simple perfection
and their love.
Its the only thing that keeps me standing, really,
other than your other hand gently on my waist.
---
As your mouth twists against mine,
your hands, those sinister
drag-race-burnt claws,
they twist through my hair
caressing my head, me.
It rakes across my scalp,
like raking leaves across a yard in autumn,
and aches and pains burst from my head.
Blood has been drawn, falling out of my scalp
the way leaves fall off trees.
Its the thing that makes me want to scream,
but you bite my tongue, my lips,
attaching me to you,
drinking up my blood
as I'm forced to drink up the scent of your *****.
The fact that you are holding onto me by my lips is
the only thing that keeps me here, really,
Other than your other hand grabbing on my waist ferociously,
hungrily, I would be gone.

It drives me nuts,
I just want to take my brain out
of its cage
and examine every corner,
every nook and cranny
and find what I'm looking for.
Every thing's in there,
it's just a matter of finding it.
I used to remember
the way your hand felt against mine,
as we ran against the world.
Now, I've buried under tons and tons of
heartbreak and equations and dates and everything
wrong and right in my mind.
Now, I just need to grab my shovel and dig.
Now, I need to find it.
Now, I will collapse and cry once I find it again.
Maybe there's a reason why I had buried it all along.

Its beautiful.
It deserves to be heard,
but I can't stand it.
I'm scared,
when you whisper into my ear
secrets of a past love,
screaming lyrics,
flustered murmers,
it just makes me more and more
confused
and I just want to fall into your eyes,
to smash my lips to yours,
to show you every single thin ive been hiding inside.
Every ******* thing.
That might overwhelm you,
but it has been overwhelming me,
my love for you is so hard to contain....
and it only starts to jump around and go just a bit berserk
when you say something,
imagine what its like when you touch me.
So, let's stick to text for now ok?
even with texts, you got my smile
stretched all the way,
incapable of stopping,
and you've got my cheeks
flustered, embarrassed, blushing.
But that might just be one of the reasons
why I love you so much.
So please go away.
Your everything just makes me more confused.
I love you.
But go away.

I can't sleep.
I feel numb.
Like there are millions of little bugs crawling over my skin.
Each whispering
'I don't love you.'

you always complained
that you were a dandelion
in a garden of roses,
a pest, a **** --
something unlovable.

and maybe you weren't perfect.
maybe you were a bit
rough around the edges
with a crack
here or there.
maybe your seams had come undone
and, if you still insist on being a flower,
maybe you had lost a petal or two.

but what you failed to realize
is that every rose
has thorns.

so maybe they didn't have
as many cracks as you,
as many tears as you,
as many rough edges
as you did,
but god,
they were nowhere near as pure,
nowhere near as lovely
as you were.

we wish on dandelions, dear,
because we trust them.
nobody's ever wished
on a rose,
now have they?
no.
they're too afraid
they'll get pricked,
stabbed,
betrayed.

so maybe you were
the dandelion
hidden in a garden of roses.
maybe you were the outcast,
the misfit,
the odd one out.
maybe you were just a little bit unloved,
and unfairly forgotten.

but what you failed to realize
is that i would have gladly picked you
over the brightest rose
in that silly little garden.

(a.m.)