I want to be intimate with you
Not bare bodied and touching
But a different sort
I want to see your soul as it is
Stripped down into nothing
Your demons in their raw existence
I want to hold each one on its own
Until I can understand how it feels to live them
I want to hear your voice scratchy and strained at 3am
And listen as words fall from your mouth into mine
Late night thoughts and questions
I want to learn your mind like it is the only book I will ever read
Memorize it top to bottom like it is my bible
You are enough religion for me to understand why we're here
I want to understand you
I want your dreams to come to me like I can make them real
Tell me your secrets like I am the journal you have been hoping to find
The empty pages you have been waiting to fill your whole life
I want to know it all
I want to know your fears
Your worries
Your happiness
And everything that keeps you up at night
I want to be the thing that keeps you up at night
I want to be the morning sun that you cannot wait to wake to
And when you do,
I will continue to get to know you better

I don't need your hands on me
Or your skin against mine
To be close to you
The best form of intimacy
Is loving someone without knowing how it feels
To touch them without clothes on
The best form of intimacy
Is realizing you can open yourself up completey without holding anything back
The best form of intimacy
Is laughing and not caring at all how you sound
The best form of intimacy
Is talking for minutes that turn into hours that turn into tomorrow
The best form of intimacy
Is time spent wasting
The best form of intimacy
Is moments
Is patience
Is devotion and commitment
With no guarantee of satisfaction
It is surrender
It is vulnerability
It is now
The best form of intimacy
Is quiescence
It is the purest method
Of affection.

Paint me the cold of midnight
or dawn in the hills,
mix me the feel of fresh grass
under tired feet
and the smell of rain
on a long and dusty road,
boiling rage
or the sweet sweet joy of relief
blend me a colour
for the things my eyes cannot see

I'm afraid you've become everything that you hate
Of this endless cascade which you wish to erase.
There's an escape at the end but first you must taste
The mistakes they created,
My dear it's called fate.

I am constantly surrounded
exhausted
exploited
by opinions
that mean nothing to me
constantly searching
screeching
for something
that makes sense
to me

Every step I take
leads me one step
closer
away
from
you

Am I see through
Or am I seen
Does anyone remember
The places I’ve been
The deeds all done
From past to present
Are they noticed
Most likely forgotten
Over time
Your actions erased
Even if mentioned
Met with a confused face

Your words
shape themselves
into blades and knives
and carve
deep into my heart,
the places I didn't know
existed.
Should I be glad that
I found new places
or
sad that I'm hurt?