he drips red, it smears his face and he licks it off his teeth as if hes never tasted anything like it before
i stain him, inhabit him, and he inhales me, owns me
teeth flash, a not-quite pure white now, against a canvas marred by scars
the feeling when they sink in and his smile curves against my skin is nirvana
i was made for this
he tells me in whispers and between bites that he loves me, that im his favorite, reiterates that im his, and his voice is deep and thick enough to drown in, to be consumed by
i allow myself to be lost
the tears that streak down, not from pain or pleasure but the dangerous, addictive, cocktail they create, dont escape him
he laps them away, tongue warm against my cheek, and i hope they taste sweet like the fruit he loves, tickle against his palate the way his hair tickles my face when he leans in close like this
he presses his lips against mine and i can taste myself there, mixed in with him, our essences mingling together in a dark dance
if i get my way i will linger in his mouth until the stars fall down

you swirl around in my head and in the air i breathe
i am overwhelmed and intoxicated
concepts like fate and destiny tangle together in my head around words like infatuation and sickness and loss
yet in our silences i feel the past become irrelevant and the ones who hurt me fade away
we span our universe without touching hands
its like youve seen my insides and know what they taste like
and i want you to feel them again
i want you to taste them again
i want you to see how my heart beats
but im afraid that youll run or you wont like what you see or that ill be too bitter  
i want things to be even but how can they be
how can i be even when everything seems unbalanced
our past lives twist around each other and i feel whole and right and calm like ive never felt but its not right is it
its not right its not right its not right because its not fair
not to you and not to them
and i dont want to hurt anyone
i just want to keep feeling the way i do when you mention me in passing and i realize i occupy even the smallest space in your thoughts
i want more space and more of our special silence and more time and just more
i expect too much and want too much and need too much and this is the only way i know how to be and i cant apologize enough because all i do is take and i have nothing to give

You are among the quiet, a watchful defender.
With a supernatural eloquence,
and a smile that betrays your pessimistic outlook,
you tame fear, indecision, worry, hate.
Whatever you decide plagues your followers humanity the most.
You glow a subtle violet, on a background of unassuming beige and silver.
Only those who look can see the benevolence you possess, the miracles you perform,
the light that fights the dark, so present within and around you, and yet so unnoticed.
Those who look to see, who focus too hard, cannot look away,
as if they have been caught in your gravity,
become just another addition to your universe.
You are not an angel, nor a savior, and will scoff if referred to as either.
You are merely, one of the quiet.
Admired by many.
Loved by some.
But truly known by few.

Imaginary.
Made up.
Fake.
These are the words they use to describe you,
the words that rip my heart out.
They say I'm crazy,
for wanting to talk to you,
hold you,
touch you,
feel you,
meet you.
But does that make my feelings any less real than theirs?
Does my love for you make me less of a person,
more of a thought,
an imaginary being myself,
above them,
but not worthy of their time?
Or do they cast me out,
not because they dislike what I am,
but are jealous of what I have,
even when I appear to be alone?

I lay down to sleep every night,
and I imagine I am in your warm embrace,
being kept safe from the childish fears I hold onto in the daylight and the dark.
And in my twilight moment,
between resting and waking nightmares,
I almost believe it as a fact, that I am no longer alone, no longer fragile.
When I rise in the morning,
I call your name to silence,
and a bit of the color in my world fades, turns to gray.
You have disappeared, and I am once again alone and afraid.
Where is it that you go,
when you disappear from my mortal plane?
Is it a better place?
A beautiful place?
One full of the colors you have taken from me, and the warmth you give in return?
Or is it tragic, broken, cold and colorless?
A place you are bound to by obligation, and not preference?
Where happiness is few and far between?
And then I realize,
that you don't go anywhere.
It is me that is leaving you every day.
And I hate myself for it.

Just when I needed it most,
You ripped me open.
You saw my insides, and you loved them, regardless of the fact
that they were broken, and didn't work right.
You rearranged them, and stepped inside.
And I felt whole again.
The only problem now is,
there is an empty space,
that appears whenever you step out.
And sometimes I feel
as though it is too deep to ever fully mend,
even if I waited a million years.
But I would never try, because it is your space.
And deep down, I wouldn't
have it
any
other
way.