it may seem like
nothing, but the
boys used to call
me bush and this
girl named Sierra
would lie about
our friendship,
i've been ugly
more times than
I can count and
because I never
forgave them I
still spend every
day trying so
hard to be

loved

Worn down nails,
rough and ridged.
Islands of colour float
in a pool of unwanted expectation.

Small pieces of skin stand proud.
Trail down my frame,
with your cardboard ogre hands.
Black prickles tickle your material,
poking out from minuscule crevices
you wanted to believe did not exist.

I am not preparing myself for your pleasure.
Your gaze through tinted roses,
giving you a wanted expectation.
Well, i'll be an exception.

I miss you.

Your brawny arms,
and the way they'd firmly hold me.

Those honest starry eyes,
and their ability to burn holes through me.

Your flawlessly gentle lips,
and the way they felt like cashmere connecting to my own.

The warmth of your body,
in my bed.

I miss,
the ignorance of being alone.

Our legs
weaved between each others bodies as we slumber.

You,
bogarting the chill of the night.
Using your own toes
to defrost mine.

Appointing your chest the role,
To stand in as my personalized pillow.

And more than anything,
I miss waking up happy.

Your influential mind, your godly presence, and your virtuous company.
Could you please return them back to me.

If I could go.

I wonder if I actually would.
The anticipation that dances through my veins may be confronted with fear when my moment finally appears.

If I could go,
I’d jump.
Expecting to never hit the ground,
Expecting to soar higher than the clouds can float and be lighter than the weight of sound.
Heaven bound.

If I could go. . .
I’d let my heart take the lead of me
Lead me into the jungle of uncertainties.
And use it as my sword cutting through the tyranny of my enemies.
Shielding me with dignity.
Conquering all conspiracies.

If I could go.
I’d hope to take with me every misfortune I’d previously encountered.
Every anchor that I’ve accidentally let drag me into a river of stabilization
And have unwilling empowered.
The morals and blessings that have followed them
And the wisdom of which I was then showered.

If I could go,
You’d catch me running herculean towards my core.
You’d hear my heart pounding ferociously like African drums
Feet banging the concrete like the crackles of thunder.
Breathe rapid and heavy as I move fiercely like a panther through the dark.
Leaving behind only my tracks and my roar.

My desire to be free and sole would burn behind me and linger in the air potently.

If I could go,
If I could go,
If only.

Conjecturing on the intimate remnants of your heart
surmising on the proper way to dissect its parts
delving into the chasm that holds your most private illusions of grandeur
bewildered by the vast expanses, these weathered lips simply stammer
the complexity of the concept left me stifled, mouth failing to make any attempts at offering kind words
as the reverberations of vocal chords became the only sound we heard
ricocheting off the precipices of your heart's unsurmountable walls
useless like hands digging the sands in fruitless attempts to draw
the full force off the ocean from a shallow hole
I stared at the blueprints of your heart's desires failing to find the control
every route on the schematic
seemed as if inner city traffic
flooded with passengers never fulling knowing when they will reach their destination rightfully so, at the center of your attention
as I sketch out the dimensions
factoring in the time it will take to find the route that leads me back to you
I marvel at the resiliency of your heart, then drive straight through
beyond these hallowed walls lies a future I was destined to reach
I shred these maps, light a match and burn all the blueprints of me...

Him
Shy as the nights sky
Her
Bright as the suns might
You
The one I see
The one I want to please
Me
The one you pass
The one you sit next to in class
We
The ones to be
The ones that will never be

I can hear the sound of rain
Against the asphalt
The cars honking with
The almost unheard birds
Just a beat behind
But what stands out in my memory
Are the smoky grey skies
And the tree barks looking like
Shades of watercolour brown
Everything shining
Steaming silently, looking silvery
Peaceful
I remember a number of things
But I cannot forget
That smell
So reminiscent of rain