Your bones creak as he holds you
You hope he doesn't hear

He hears them softly whisper
And he exhales deeply "don't fear"

His bones are also weathered
Some of his tendons, torn

But do not be ashamed
Of your bones so old and worn

As he, just like I, have been there
so many times before.

Pressed flowers
Forgotten in the pages
Of the that book
Oh what was it called
But anyway,
That book is sitting
In my father's bookshelf
Somewhere between
A history of the civil war
And an encyclopedia from 1949
It is lost in the depths
Of my mother's bookshelf
There the book with the pressed flowers
Covered in dust and memories
Waits for me to recapture the lost moments
Collecting and absorbing the words
And ideas trapped within the binding
Lost flowers, pressed in time
Lost in the pages of my childhood
Bookmarked, forever.

What if I told you I found the sweet spot, the perfect combination of want, desire and satisfaction, the perfect balance of risk and thrill, the best adrenaline rush.
I'll share it with you.
Are you ready?
Can you enjoy the dark and lovely, that beautiful spinning moment, the freedom?
It's mine, it can be yours too, breathe it in, **** it down, devour every taste and color, savor it, it won't last forever. Revel in it, drown in it, wicked laughter and twisted minds, wannabe gangsters and the real thing. A sea of crazy and delight
Who are you?
What are you?
I'll show you the art of spinning out of control. Time to unwind and unravel.
This is my dream, my wild unbound satisfaction.
The writing on your face.
The drugs.
The *****.
The crazy.
The dangerous.
Its all mine, and I soak it up relentlessly.

It's not our fault that we don't make good choices
It's not our fault that we hate each other
It's not our that we get angry for no reason
It's not our fault that we are never happy
It's not our fault that we say things we weren't supposed to say
It's not our fault that we make many mistakes
It's just human nature

I've decided that should anyone
years from now
discover my body
I want them to find me blind-
not from grief and sadness that I saw
but from the beauty my eyes beheld.

I want them to find
the disks in my neck worn-
not from lifting my nose at the inferiority of this place
but rather due to the fact that I was constantly gazing up
simply to remind myself that I get to be a piece in it all.

I want my lips to have trembled, smiled, spoken, gaped
my ears to have listened, to have listened, to have heard
my wrinkles to be evidence of laughter, evidence of worrying

my hands to have been held,
to have fought, grasped
and most importantly to have let go.

When they find me
I want my piercings to be evidence of my interest in pain
and the calm that follows.

I want my body to be riddled in love
agape, philias, eros, storge
I want my scars to be testaments to
my fearlessness, my carelessness,
my courageousness, and my curiosity.

Should they find my spirit gone
should they find my body dead
I want them to know
I want them to know I lived.

If only you knew
About all the secrets
Your sister so sneakily
Hides from you
Like the ones she has
About me

I thought I knew addiction
when I turned 16,
I was forced into smoking
left craving it's feel

I thought I knew addiction
when I first felt the pleasure
of losing 2 lbs
and skipping my dinner

I thought I knew addiction
when I first sipped alcohol
left wanting more
feeling like a fool

but I only knew addiction
when I met you
when you held me in your arms
and told me not to let go

why in the world
would I want to let go
when the moment we pulled away
I would be left needing more?

I knew of no addiction
until you held my hand tight
told me that you loved me
in the dead of night

I am left now
confused and alone
lost without you
because you were my home

and I still desire you even now
but my heart is in tatters
and my mind is in two