First touch
First kiss,  bliss
I lick my lips
The tension releases
This feeling I feel
A sickness
This desire builds
All this touching
Still can't get my fill
Craving that look
Of passion in your eyes
Your disguise,
The satisfaction
Of friction,  sweat
Dripping between crevaces
Following the path
The moisture leaves a trail
To the bottom of the ocean
Explosion
Keep going
To the flame inside
It burns,  for you
Steady and hard
I feel this hunger
Quench my thirst
A slow and soft kiss,
First
Then it's just enough
The volcano erupts
Fall down,  bliss
It all started
With one sweet kiss

She cries late
                  every night
     Turns off all the
                           lights
         Sits in bed
bawls
             her eyes out
      in the dark
Cutting out pieces
      of her heart
No one can see
                          the scars
           of her sewing
back up her chest
       Soon she will be
             an empty shell
        Hopefully
                    putting her soul to rest
If her heart
                    is no longer there
It can't get broken,
              right?
If no one can see
                          the tears
Then she never cried,
                     right?

Ink is in my
        blood,
    My heart
         and
        My soul.

Poetry flows
     Through me
       Promise
You'll Never
       Let it
            *Go...

My soul is not tortured like the skin of a man alone in the searing heat of the dessert.
My mind does not crumble into the rubble of a post war city.
My body does not shake it's self into a shaken, splattered, spineless sorbet.
I am happy, not like a bird in spring but happy as I can be.
My mind is composed, not like a master archer but composed all the same.
My angst is not kept in a box of self disbelief wrapped in a ribbon of doubt and despair.
I am, me, happy to be me. I have my issues which occasionally need tissues but nonetheless and nevertheless and nonethemore and alwaysthemost I am happy