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Krystina Curry May 2014
It all started with a crush.
His crush. Of course.
Because crushes are irrational,
And I am a rational being.
I AM NOT--according to Freud,
Reason, desire, and appetite.
I AM NOT the desire to love or be loved.
I AM NOT the appetite for companionship.
I am, solely, reason. Or so I thought.
But rather, I was HIS reason.
His reason for being so shy.
For waiting 4 months to ask a simple question.
For asking my friends if I were seeing someone.
For blushing every time I asked "How are you?"
For posting on fb "anyone down to chill?"
For continuing to try to ask me out even after saying no…
On 5 different occasions.
But on that sixth try… there was no reason.
No reason for me to say yes, but every reason in the world to say no.
But without reason, I gave him a shot.

"Enjoy the beginning," they say.
"Live in the moment."
But how?
How do I enjoy this state of being we've fallen into?
How do I enjoy his hand intertwined with mine?
His sweet caressing that puts me at such ease.
His light kiss on my forehead that extinguishes every fear, every worry; that makes me feel utterly protected.
His quick squeeze that reminds me that he'll always be there.
His deep stare that's empty of all judgments and criticisms.
How do I enjoy his presence?
That presence that puts a smile on my face
That eases my anxiety,
Relaxes my muscles,
Makes me unclench my fist,
Breaks down my walls,
Softens my tone,
Brings out my warmth,
And makes me utterly and completely happy.
That gives that feeling of lo-… wait, no.
I promised and swore.
I scout's honored...
"I, Krystina Curry, scout's honor to never fall in love again."

Yet, even in such a perfect state, those thoughts linger…
My imagination can still get the best of me.
I can imagine his hand in hers.
I can imagine him turning his cheek,
And pressing his lips to hers.
I can imagine this moment dissipating, and fading away.
I can imagine his interest fluttering away,
Just like the others.
So easy to just pick up and go,
To pick the next one to come along.
The 'better' one.
I can imagine myself falling back,
Into that hole I've come to know all too well.
Those waves of insecurities start to come crashing down,
Breaking my bones,
Making me gasp for air,
Desperate for that sense of security and comfortability.
Something so good never lasts long. Enough, at least.
And I know this fact all too well.
Rough, first draft.
Krystina Curry Mar 2013
Okay. Straight up? No *******?
It was you.
Mr. Out-of-the-Blue. You.
With your piercing eyes
With your persistent tries to create those ties
and to pacify my cries.
You, were the one who came at me
as a complete and utter surprise.
But as I tried to hide behind the length of my arms
To protect myself from all your charms and harms,
You pushed past my steel wall
And got me to make the call.
Not text. No, not like all the rest.
Because it was your tight hold in the midst of the cold
It was your soft voice that got me to make the choice
To take that godforsaken risk
Because with each and every single kiss,
You brought me the most euphoric bliss
That I have ever reached.
And all this? …in a single week.
Alright alright. Straight up, though. No *******.
I gave you my ******* all.
I let myself whole-heartedly fall.  
Now if you had even knew
What I had said to be true.
If you had listened with your ears rather than your eyes.
And had tried
With something other than what’s between those thighs,
You would be able to see
That I never give this away so easily.
I usually test the best
And pick and choose
The ones that never let their morals to loose.
I make them race and chase,
Make them burn and ******* earn
What I have to offer.
Because I know,
I always make the wait,
NO. The work worth while.
Straight up and NO *******.
“So passionate… so real and raw”
Was what you said you saw.
Yet here we are
With me supposedly not up to par?
No, no, no.
YOU'RE the one that let it slip.
You had me in your grip,
Yet her in your heart
And ultimately, you let it tear us apart.
Pleasee, just straight up and NO MORE *******.
How dare you just sit there and stare
How dare you give ME that ******* glare
And have the audacity to tell me
No, have the ******* nerve
to say that I deserve
ANY of this
After I gave you the love you supposedly wanted
And the support you supposedly flaunted...?
Alright. Fine. Straight up, no *******.
I’ll be the one to step up to the plate.
I’ll be the one to grab the rake and clear out what’s fake.
I’ll be the one to man the **** up.
Because clearly.... someone never fully developed.
Alright, I ****** up.
I ****** up because I stood by and let you lie
Let you spit in my face
And put me in this place
Let you drag me behind as you tried to find
Out if I’m worth the fight,
But soon enough, you’ll see that I was right.
Just straight up and no ******* already.
I am done watching someone be so weak
Running around with nothing to seek.
Playing games with different names.
If this is how you want to play
Okay, I can be the one to toss you away.
Because I will never stand to take this ******* day by day by day.
I’m one to cut my losses and move the **** on.
So you know what…
Don’t ever consider me another one of your pawns.
Krystina Curry Nov 2012
He and she, forever more.
His palm,
Placed playfully atop her own.
Two hands rooted,
Like a tree to the earth.
Two hands held high.
Forever growing,
Blooming, falling, and consistently changing.
These two hands,
Linked together like chains.
Eternally unbroken.
The cold air on their bare palms,
Would be far too uncomfortable.
So they remain in that place.
Heads turned,
and fingers forever intertwined.

— The End —