Sticks and stones my break my bones
but words may never leave me.

I crave it,
the smell of raw earth that is fertile
and pregnant with anxiety
newborn vulnerability mixed with a ****** innocence
desire, pure and unfiltered
in its most childish and embarassing form
the smell of raw earth is what I live for
when the grass has been torn up
and all that is there is possibility
roots snaking and enticing through
fresh ground, the birthing-place
of all things alien
familiar only to other aliens
I am new
and I can smell the newness here as I fill my lungs
with that which has been written and found filled
written and done,
dirt is the ankles of the world
the calves, thighs, and what's between them
forever moving and shifting restlessly, frustrated,
rising and falling beneath the soft fur of grass,
hoping
for the grace and gifts of the gentle soft
baby leaves and sprouts
to come upon the raw earth
and take it to its highest love.

A thousand years staring into the Sun,
Retinas burnt remain unmoved,
I cast no shadow as my bones turn to dust,
yet these eyes still stare,
Searching for the moon

I couldn't rush any quicker
Than to taste something
More bitter than your soul.
And swearing on improper nouns
I told myself to never look
Directly at your heart...

I did; you turned to stone.

So its true.
It was all just a matter of distance.
You
thought you loved me, merely because I always there, the itch you can't quite reach, the attention you think you might have wanted
I,
held your hand through the weeks of uteric pain and as the gas in your chest cavity slowly moved between your organs.
I,
gave myself to no one but you in no hope of gain and
You,
lashed me to shreds and shards of a man every time you snapped your gnashing jaws at me, tearing chunks out of my mauri.
The trust once between us looks like the flowers you carelessly left on your windowsill to dry up and die, leaving me to wonder whether it ever existed at all.

It was nothing but proximity love.

I was told that you found a new lover,
and to be Frank I am Tame and over.
But to say I spread the rumours is far from close.
I won't say what you want to hear,
so you just want ****** believe it.
You'll bend as much as Tane Mahuta and you will lose because of it.

I wait for a hand to hold through pain and fear.
I learn from this
I leave this
I no longer know you.
But,
did I ever.

I wish.
I was your sheets
wrapping you up and sharing my warmth.
Holding your body, caressing your curves.
If I were your sheets I'd keep you as warm and content
as myself.