he swallows her.

slowly, then all at once.
presses his lips to her cheeks to
watch the color bleed across her face,
like an ink blot in water
but reversed.
her creator amends his mind
and draws the color from her skin.

she was so lovely.
he imagined what could be
with colors as beauteous as these
and though she begs him not to,
he proceeds.

she screams,
and he is pleased.
he gulps them down in kisses.
drinks her last breaths down
like the finest Cabernet
that ran dry on her birthday.
her nails scratch prophecies in his back,
possess him until becomes a wolf
in the moon-like whites of her glossy eyes.
he is wild. he breaks bread and
***** the marrow from her bones.
a sweet slaughter, splendid sacrifice.
her colors dripping down his face
a perfect masterpiece.

her smile has a sharp edge,
like a knife through his chest.
and the cut's getting deeper
as he tries to get closer,
but she keeps him
at an arm's length.

there's a chance of falling apart,
but instead he's falling in love.
the more she draws back,
the more sacrifices he makes
to be worthy of her grace,
to finally conquer her heart.

her laughter has no end,
like a sunset wrapped mist.
and the fog is getting thicker
as he tries not to get lost,
as he never wants to be found,
dying to stay like this.
chained with weightless ropes,
always by her side,
when the torture is most welcome
and the suffering is pure bliss.

Let's go
Through all the motions
Of our stupid emotions.

A smile is like an exit
Out of the room,
Where you don't really want to be.

I only pretend with pretenders
And contend with contenders
I'm only giving to the givers
And forgiving to forgivers

I'm only strange with strangers
And dangerous with dangers
I'm only hateful to the haters
And traitorous to traitors

i open my arms to the wind
and find it uncomfortably still

there is something eerie
about the way you
can be submerged
in something
(or someone)
but feel nothing

i wave my hands
back and forth
like a cab-call
to feel it on my skin

the first time
a boy kissed me
i asked him
not to.
he held me tight
while no one was around
told me he would not
let go until i did.
i called it love.

now i write poems.
and maybe i shouldn't write poems
for men that i have only looked at from across a room
and maybe i shouldn't tattoo his name
in hearts on my arms
and go on honeymoons before the wedding

but if i'm being honest
i have so much to give
that the fantasy of you and me
makes me think that maybe
up is down and down is up
and that for once, maybe
falling might not be so bad

when you teach me parkour
you tell me there are softer ways to land
tuck, roll, spin out, land gently on your toes
falling is not the worst thing if you do it right
but it takes time to learn
and if i am honest
i am writing love poems before
i've learned to rhyme or reason
recite to you my flat lines
trying to turn the snaps into
a CPR jumpstart for love
plug into you
a broken battery,
just trying to recharge
all of my rusty parts
that I, lay before you
as if getting *******
would fix the gaping
hole in my chest
thats been out of
commission for years now

when you tell me i am _
and introduce me to your best friends
i feel the walls fall down
like piles of clothing around us
like makeup washing down a drain
like scrubbing rust off an old pan
i stand here raw and real, and still
you tell me i can stay over
for the first time in a long time
i say "id like that"
press two lips to a forehead
and two hands to a chest
take a moment to take in
the man that is
lying so beautifully next to me
lying so beautifully next to me
lying so beautifully to me
my body hits pavement