Bite me.
Could I be ******, turned on, or something else entirely?
No seriously, c'mon, Bite Me.
I dare you.
Those three little words are quite powerful, aren't they?
You want to touch me, to **** me, to have your teeth on my flesh and just take my orders and defy them all at once.
There's a fire's touch in your blood, and its burning you up right now.
I'm a woman, yes, but you won't hurt me.
Try to hurt me.
Maybe I'll like it.
Maybe I'll be like society, kicking at your *****, screaming at the top of my lungs for you to Man Up and teach me a right proper lesson.
Well, shouldn't you?
BITE ME.
Not a vampire bite, too pop culture for its own good, or a little teasing bite, no, I want you to hurt me.
Aren't you a man?
Doesn't that mean I deserve what I get?
Doesn't it mean I want it?
I always want it, I'm a woman after all.
So c'mon, big boy, Bite Me. Make me remember where I "belong".
Maybe I'll be nice enough to make you a sandwich afterwards while I cry my eyes out.
You crane your neck, you open your mouth, and I let out a bittersweet sigh.
You bite me.
And like a woman, I took it. I took it all.

What Are We?
I look into your deep brown eyes and I wonder with every fiber of my being, with every touch of Eros, what in the world is between us?
You'd probably chuckle and say air, or, in those moments you let your guard down, nothing, but for a moment be serious. I know you hate it, I hate it, its hated like Pluto. Yet for a moment, just a moment, we need to accept there is something, not nothing, between us.
What Is This?
Your words melt on my tongue like snow, our lips bringing the sun in the middle of the storm, yet still I look at you and wonder. I'm not Alice, so I can't wonder long, and its killing me sitting here listening to my errant thoughts just screaming.
What Are You?
You're like fire and rain and hatred and love and belligerence and impossibilities and shattered glass locked up in this fleshy body with a beautiful smile. Sometimes your glass juts out, or your fire burns me at the wrong time, and sometimes I don't see enough of your flesh and being for my liking, but you are you and with each stumble you catch me and I'm amazed by you.
What Am I?
With each whispered word you insist I'm beautiful even though I know it must be a lie or a trick upon your eyes. I think I am someone you could care for, and it terrifies me, thinking you might care, because I am the queen of heartbreaks and I either fall so hard or chop off their heads. And I don't want to lose, or ****, you.
What Are We?*
We are everything, we are nothing, we are the world in two people reflecting what every fears and dreams and spends they're whole lives searching for. And maybe, just maybe, we might be falling in love.

One moment.

Her eyes were closed and the sparks danced behind them and down through her body, a beautiful, uncontrollable choreography. The smell of leather and summer intoxicated her, left her knees wobbling. One moment, one memory, lips parted and together, spinning her round and round until she fell down.

Blue eyes begged and fingers scraped noncommittally against every pore, but she was locked. The wood would not budge, and her silent tears collapsed as he danced from afar. A bittersweet tango as another woman reflected in his eyes, fingers dancing with his as hers once did.

Cheap motels and motor oil were all they had needed that summer. He had smiled and left kissing promises in the naked morning, waking her daily with their future, fantasy, and love. One moment, every stalling second was one moment, one moment before he could kiss her, one moment before he could touch her, one moment before he could love her.

She would wait moment, she would wait forever.

Together their hearts had melded into a rhythm unlike any she had known, music without sound that had them dancing from the moment they met until the moment she had to leave.

One moment. They said that moment would ruin his life. Every leaping dream and twirling hope would be crushed by her little mistake. His dance would end. Each hand hung onto a different love, and she had to choose.

Long moments, on one long night, she wished sorrowful goodbyes to her growing love. In the shadows she crawled to clinics cold and heartless. Her fingers dropped money in their pockets to tear her heart open, rip it to shreds, take it way and make her cold, clinical, incomplete. She could no longer dance, her fingers could no longer move with his as they once did. Yet their hearts stayed tied, and with each misstep her love took three. Clueless, he let her ****** his music, his rhythm, his dance with love.

They told her she was killing him. They insisted she was no good for him. They blamed her when he could no longer dance.

She listened.

One moment, arms clasped onto one another, water fell in a remorseful decrescendo, marking the end of a love. The cavity of her heart was filled with rainwater, flooded with the pain of their loss. He begged her not to go, but he was blind to the blood on her hands. She had to be strong to save him.

One final moment, lips crashed into the final dance, the beautiful memory that haunted her into her dreams, into her days, unto her end.

He smiled, she smiled, and his dance finally began again in the arms of his bride. All that was left for her was a silent solo, the walk away from the love she would never replace. They had locked her out. They had broken her heart.

But they had been right, and without her he would dance again.

I'm not sorry.
I'm not sorry that your heart beats to drums of bells or whatever it is that isn't mine.
That I've grown out of the little pocket in your jeans that you put me in, thinking I was too small to get out, and that I may not be the person you want so desperately anymore.
That I have offended you by finally letting myself be me.
That the wind beats on you windows at night and makes you wish we could go back to who we used to me, entwined so wholeheartedly, loved as if we were in love.
I can't be sorry.
I'm not sorry.
I never will be.

Yeah its certain I'm an addict
And I think I'm going crazy
But my head is spinning circles
At the thought of you my baby

Can you hear it, my heart beating
As you circumvent your feelings
Could it be true
That you feel the way I do?

Yeah I'm reeling and unbending
At the the thought of you stuck mending
All the broken parts of me
The ones that I keep sending away
just so you'll stay

And I'm certain you are cautious
And you should be at the fact
That our Gone With The Wind romance
Is romancing too fast
My only suggestion
Is the closed eyed progression of our love
don't be scared just
Jump.

I lay my head down on your empty lap,
And fall right through the air
My wings don’t sprout just like they should
All I see is red
Your name a faint memory in the spring wind
As autumn comes I’ve nearly forgotten,
but remembered well enough to have it stuck on my tongue
just on the tip, just enough to itch and scratch and bite and kick
just enough to be unforgettable

The light shines in the darkness,
The winter comes in spring,
My love dies in daylight,
My love dies not at all

An empty grave is calling invisible
Cat calling and begging to drag the forgotten into bed
But another hand pulls towards the heavens
A hand that isn’t even trying, isn’t even seeing, only just barely there
Just enough to be unforgettable

Tomorrow, tomorrow is a new day
But not for illusions,
Hades is crooning a siren song
But ears are filled with wax for my fair Penelope I must return
Even if she’s dead and gone and alive and well and doesn’t want me

Deeper than the ocean,
Farther than the sea,
On your boat you’ve moved on,
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Crying out my love’s name, the one that I’ve forgotten,
Begging for their sweet return,
Its just enough to be unforgettable.