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You probably understand. Or maybe you don't, after all. Either way, it is jumping around inside me and if I don't let it out soon all my carbonation will fizz up and run over the side of my glass and I don't want to waste all that sweetness.

I want to kiss you underwater.

I want that kiss to be the only thing keeping us alive. Down there we are foreigners, aliens. Grasping, I want to feel your flesh in stark contrast to the smooth wetness all around me, like a secret.

All that life where we cannot live. Exotic, forbidden, so lovely. I am sick with love.

The Addict:
It was just like opening up a window
Just a peek outside was all I needed-
-at first.
Just barely taking in what was in front of me
Grazing my chin against the windowsill
I was afraid at first
Afraid of what was out there
But that didn't stop me from looking
Each time I would look out that window
I would
poke my
head further
and further
out.
Out of consciousness
     of my humanity
Until, finally,
I fall out the window
     out of my life
            and into oblivion.


The Drug Dealer:
Like a cancer,
I started out small
an outlier to the whole
a single cell.
Growing
Consuming your hard work, your resources.
Giving nothing in return but toxins and sorrow.
Metastasizing
Increasing my grip on your life
until I consume you.
It will take more than just wishing
to get me to vacate.

I thought

We were going to ****

But it’s 2 AM

And you’re biting your lip

Telling me things

That you’ve never told anybody

And I’m telling you

All my awful secrets

And I feel ashamed

My breaths held back

And you’re eyes are shut

I bite my lip

Wishing I could take them back

But you open them

And look down at me

And I think that’s why I

Fell in love with 2 AM

You smiled because

You knew all my awful secrets

And you

Stayed anyway

If I was a blind old woman
or a sculptress caked in clay
I'd trickle my weathered fingertips
over your cheekbones like rain

Trace that scar from long ago
follow the beaten track
my eyes have wandered a million times
like a favourite paperback

If I was  a travelling artist
paintbrush aching to echo your face
on the empty strip of a canvas
your eyes too blue to leave any space

I'd paint in glorious yellow
those secret acts of kindness
your heart uncontrollably glows
that cool exterior just a pretence

Just the same stumbling tone
that falters as you masquerade
as just my friend, so well I know
that devotion you shine down on my face

If I was the woman I want to be
I'd twist these words in ink round your wrists
but I am just a helpless writer
and you are too precious to risk