Am I putting myself first?

       Not enough?                      Too much?
i feel im going to burst .....

It took me long to learn to be selfish
                                and now those lessons

                know no bounds and in certain times
                 I’m found

Being petulant
  
                                                  And aggressive


         with my tongue.


I hate the feeling
         Fighting internal bleeding
                       of my very soul
        
      the one I finally told
                                               to stand up.

As she reveals herself from the pit of neglect
              she rears an ugly head

         is this something I can regret?

Let it go and let her out
                Learn to grow               but I find out

a horror in my capabilities


             Is this unlearning?
        
                                   or is this
                                                          Me­?

My first taste
              from a different place

                           came from a poison drip

cursed lips
                           and weapons cinched in hips


                  Sexualizing romance for others’ leering pleasure

       now, blanketed security

   I feel no inferiority
  
                   and pleasure is free

for romance is no longer sexualized but prized, and *** is now romanticized

                   and I can feel everything.

I miss New York

             And Think.

And other things
    

           that taste of coffee

A comforting sigh in a sickening night

                             the ink of your arms on the satin of my sides

where to begin?
                                                     not this **** again
            the constant deliberation
                                                    ­                 your harsh beration

is that even a word?


I wouldn't know, you're not here to correct me


But I'll still prostrate myself before you
Never imply, never implore you
to swallow the pride I so eminently taste
on the tip on your tongue in the flames of your space

for I articulated immensely and pure,
I've no pride left -- I've already tried to say

                                   that I Miss You

In the olive branch of thought, or concern, or encouragement


The snicker on your lips at the edge of the cord
Has snapped in my face, in a favored exchange
You say I don't owe you
But maybe I do?
I couldn't tell you why

                                                       I'll still say I Miss You

Chuckle in my face
                                            say I'm looking too hard
when half passed a year, and I saw that you star-        -ted
to write in the place I hold dear to my heart
You played where you meant and you knew these parts

I would puzzle together would puzzle my head
to ensure that your seed had been planted and fed

And I hate the feeling you put in this trough
                             I'll lap at the puddle, still claim that is

All Love.

                        You forget that I know you
From that you can't hide
                         You forget that I know the shake in your voice
When you lie

                                                         Despite your uncanny ability still,
This hostility doesn't suit you
                                         Not that I think that I will
change that as of late.


I just wish you could swallow that burdened mind
The one with the Pride?
The one you never tried

                                                     to combat or control
because control is a need


I see that , I know that ,              so control what you please


But no more, not me
It's me.
It is me.

Can you not at all, remember it's me?

Not a burden
A binding
An obligation "back home"

No pressure
No lectures
Just a box of our notes.

The snipping aversion proceeding the kind
Doesn't look good on you,

I've reached and I've tried.

So I'll favor this favor, because my heart's cured --

Unbandaged,
         I'll tell you I Miss You
                                                          once more.





                                 this time try to
Be honest with me.

Do my words
                               my existence
              
                   my breath
                                                          ­    my hardship

the thud of my feet upon the flesh of the earth

                                      my thoughts of us
                                                              ­                   or lack thereof..

Carry explosives
                                 unruly power
                      omnipotence
                         ­                               demolition
                       ­      daggers

into the satin, slick clamshell center of your chest


The way yours do

                                       To me?