From the time I could walk,
Daddy was never there for the little talks.
Twelve years young,
And I'm drowning in tears,
Never imagining those would be the worst years.
I can remember feeling so hopeless,
Falling down such a slippery *****.
Depression was my label,
With my anxiety growing unstable.
Fourteen years young,
And I'm beginning to see blood.
Coming out of my arms like a flood.
I've grown to love the color of red,
Did you know that seeing too much would mean I was dead?
Sixteen years young,
And I'm killing my lungs.
Everything is starting to get better,
I've become a goal setter.
I'm grateful for everything I went through,
Because now, life means so much more.
I may not be completely healed,
But I'm better off where I am now then I was before.

I love the way you kiss me,
As your frigid hands caress my *******,
I yearn for your nakedness to be closely nestled.
Your voice is raspy and deep, yet calming and smooth;
"Let your guard down, I want to see all of you."
Honestly, I felt weak in my knees, hearing the truth.
The delicacy of your lips pressed against my body,
Makes me able to barely whisper, "I'm ready, baby."
Unzipping my jeans,
I hear them drop to the floor.
I can feel my airways grow tight,
While I'm spread open.
I need you to stay overnight.

your hands they work like levees
and you stop me when you've had enough
too much
build up my walls cause you couldn't handle it all

i am
an ocean
the sea
angry, unpredictable
monsters hide under me
lurking in the darkest corners
inching towards the faintest smell of blood
crave the warmth between their teeth

but your hands
they work like levees
pushing and
pulling away
when you've had too much
one day
it will not be enough.

i will sneak in through the smallest crack
if you give me the chance
walls will crumble like babylon
and i will be relieved
i will get everything i need
not enough
not too much
i will snap your hands
overflowing,
smash your levee down

we no longer achieve
intimacy by
peeling off our
skin like the band aid
that will sting as it is torn away.

intimacy is the art
of feeling like a monument torn apart,
hoping no one will tear you down
to create a better
you.

i have become depressed-
repressing all the love i have to give
if only i could shed my shadows
and remember we are only flesh.

i don’t remember
how to be intimate.