I swear, nothing will beat
When you bite my lips
And run your hands through my hair
Kissing me like my exhale is the last bit of air
That will ever enter your lungs
And when you kiss my neck,
I feel a shiver like an arctic breeze
I just can't help it,
You're so... foxy

In a book I opened
on page twenty three
I came upon a pressed flower and
wondered,
was it for me?

The book was printed, eighteen ninety five
I guess
the flower was alive back then and
so
it wasn't for me.

I wonder who placed it
between pages twenty three and four and
why did they put it there?
who was it for?

Sad,
looking upon the dead rose
thinking about those,
and did the book close on them,
did the rose
speak of love
back then?

I re-experience her,
here,
yes here.
The joy that was lost long ago.
We share again,
we smile again.
I remember the only thing,
the river,
the warmth.
I confess,
something never said before.
We share again,
we smile again.
It wasn't meant to be,
but still,
I wait,
here,
yes here.

Golden sun kissed skin
With a pair of ocean blue eyes
Plum colored lips
Perfect hourglass shape

But she hates herself
Covered in bruises
Mascara running down her face
Cracked and scared

Not just the outside
But on the inside too
The body she sees now
Was never her own

Lies hidden behind brown eyes
A boy as twisted as her
Beaten and tormented
Always living in the past

Together they're tragic
A combination for disaster
With her malevolence
And his sensitivity

But he's put a spell on her
Unable to control herself
She means no harm
But there'll be no happy ending

And he'll fall in love
With the girl who fixed him
Just to have his heart ripped out again
No longer wanting to live

And she'll go crazy
This has happened before
Life's repeating itself
When will it end

Up and die he goes
Left for the sea in her eyes
He has it in his
but he never did realize
We never saw sea again

In the end,
Who tells me who I am?
he tells me that it's him,
and she tells me that it's her.
And this entitlement is surely not universal.

We must decide ourselves.
Horrifically.
But how can I possibly be blind to all of this noise?
When the streets are filled with final blueprints
Of how my life will play out?

For all of us
The words placed upon us slither around our arteries
And up to our brains.
They insert venom into the soul gleefully.
And the poison is ubiquitous.
It's terribly malicious.
Because we must decide.
Who speaks fact
and who fiction.

In the end,
I must decide who I am.
I must dig into my heart with a rusty shovel and push.
My only wish
is that I don't hate what emerges from this abyss.

a swollen tongue, thick coat of sweat
thumbing the inner cheek of a half eaten peach
festering the breeding of rotten thought
fruit flies