The other day
In English class
My feet were itchy
So I got up
Walked around
And even scratched them for gods sake
But the itching
Would not go away
We read articles about oppressive society
And androcentric culture
But no distraction could make the itch leave
After the bell rang, I got up
But I did not go to my next class
Instead
I rose from my seat with my itchy feet
And walked to New Zealand and back
I crossed oceans and stepped through valleys
And mountains
And deserts
And streams
And there was not one thing
In this whole ******* world that I didn’t see
And that was when
I noticed that my feet had stopped itching
Or
at least
Not as much as before

120 beats per minute and I can’t stop thinking about you
It is the moments I lay under these sheets and
The moments I spend alone
I am tossing and turning with unattainable relief
My lips resembling a dog’s chew toy
Because there are so many words that I cannot say
But I can bite them into morse code on my skin

I am groaning, exasperated, the light beginning to pour in from behind those blinds
6am and I still can’t stop thinking about you

The delicacy of your words flutters and lands upon me like a butterfly
Pounding headaches and strife towards euphoria
All leading towards the realization that
Oblivion is inevitable  
And facing death is much simpler
Than telling you the way I feel
Because I can think about life and ponder about death
but I still can’t stop thinking about you too

I can’t stop thinking
Not about your warm brown eyes
The warmest I’ve ever seen
Or the tone your voice takes when
you begin to explain something to me
And the smooth skin behind your neck
And the taste of your lips
Will have me up all day
Because I sure as hell didn’t sleep last night

I am in some sort of paradoxical tortured pleasure
that picks me up and pummels me down
With each profound effect of your words
Ringing in my ears and
Having my pillow greet my face
For another night of painful thoughts about the pleasure of you

I want the scent of warm cinnamon, soothing pumpkin, and ginger. I want to taste snickerdoodles and feel the cold biting my nose as warm hot cocoa fills me up. I want to be wrapped in scarves, donned in my winter coat and gloves. I want to march around in the snow and pretend I am a soldier and fall down and make snow angels. I want firey chimney endings to my day, with childlike, innocent anticipation pumping through me. Candles and blankets, a soft and warm voice over an acoustic guitar, the heat of your body under this thin blanket and your chapped lips against mine, is all I want for Christmas.

devoid of all social constraints- we begun to see for the very first time, with everything up in the clouds except our bodies that intertwine to fit into each other
as if they were

molded | that | way

or perhaps meant to be that way
and i must say, it is a true sight to be pulsating right by your flesh, my blood flowing under all this skin, adjacent to your blood and veins and skin, a real pleasure to breathe your air and smell your hair, feel the sheets and skin and sheets and skin, eyes of danger filled with pure want

i want to be alone with you, untouchable, untraceable, to run my fingers down your spine, kiss your neck, feel truly with you, somewhere no one can touch us, invincible, you’re mine, i want to envelope you in my arms and in my love, i want to lay beside you, exhausted, breathing heavily but still managing to giggle endlessly, endlessly, i want to be with you endlessly, i don’t want the giggles to go away and i don’t want the feeling of being together with our true selves to falter and fade

i want to be alone with you, you inspire me to greater reaches i ever envisioned previously, you are my muse and my drive, occupying my thoughts and my feelings. i want to be with you.

I want to feel the silky smooth luxury that is your skin
I want to be engulfed in your pleasure, it is all I want to see, and hear, and feel
The universe is ours for the taking
I want to be driven mad by pleasure
I want it to infect my existence
If pleasure is my drug, then love is but a symptom*
I crave feeling the smoothness of your skin and tracing my fingers along the side of your body and intend to look to you with loving eyes, loving eyes that don’t hold anything. I will not allow myself nor do I bare interest towards falling in love yet it is those moments I crave the most. I want to be in love without being in love. It has never been easy for me. I continually feel discouraged or doubtful and there are always anchors to my love that keep it from being free. I fool myself into thinking it is lust, what I want- but it is far from that. I yearn for love just as any human but I want to know someone without knowing someone.

“one flew east, one flew west, one flew over the cuckoo’s nest”

A crackle at the sight of dawn. I am freshly broken, a new day to start off completely aching. I rise, a few bones in my arms splintering through scabbed over, stitched together skin as I stretch out my newly beaten up embodiment. My ribs snap as I take my first deep breath of the day which punctures my heart and lungs. The internal bleeding causes blood to spurt out from my mouth as I am brushing my teeth, which then shatter as I try to delicately clean them. I look in the mirror and I look perfect. The muscles in my legs begin to spasm, and my body collapses on itself as it can no longer support the weight of destruction. One’s self is the only parasite that exists. It is now time to begin a brand new day.