I wish you knew -
No.
Really, I don’t want you
to know.

If only I could tell -
But if
I’m being honest,
telling is half
the problem.

Do you ever wonder -
Don’t tell me.
The idea of what
you might think
terrifies me.

I like to imagine…
Not that.
Mostly just
that I knew how to make you
understand
or how
to understand myself.

He wouldn't laugh
if he knew
how much of
me
still belonged
to him.

He would close his eyes
(almost -
is that -
regret?
desire?
disappointment?)
if he understood
how my inspiration
is all
derived
from stolen glimpses
of that
stupid smirk.

He would ****
his head -
say my name
(reproachfully?
regretfully?
desperately?)
if he could
feel
himself in
every word
I write.

Though I wonder
would the
disapproval
be for my feelings?
Or simply
for the way I
romanticize them?

Maybe
I had one hit too many.
That would explain
my bra on the floor
my hand on your chest
the heavy breathing
of your desire.
I can’t
you breathe out
between bites on my neck.
I know.
This is wrong.
I moan
as our lips fuse together.
Probably.

In my mind
I know better
than to listen
to what my body is telling me
in the darkness of your room
with the fire
of your skin
against mine.

In your eyes
is the expectation
of regret
and your lack of concern
as you
trace
the curves
beneath you.

But under those sheets
is the knowledge
that nothing will -
Nothing can
come between us.

Not tonight.

The first bite of fruit
is always the hardest.
To break that perfection
to sink your teeth in through the skin
is a task
(not simple)
far too easy.
It will
never
be the same.
You can look at the other side
and imagine
it kept it’s perfection.
But inevitably
after that first bite
the crisp white insides
begin to brown
and rot.

I bent at the waist
to pluck a flower
and fell into
the sun-warmed grass.
There was laughter
in his kiss
as he tucked that flower
into my hair.
I was anointed
queen of the meadow
goddess of sunlight
and flowers
empress of summertime.
His fingers brushed by
electric against
my blood-rushed cheeks
and I closed my eyes
for just a moment
and forgot
that those same fingers
had left their mark
with screams
and bruises.
I gave it up
for a kiss
and that beautiful smile.
It was
worth it.
He
was worth
everything.

Your smile
tastes of mint smoke.
It’s refreshing
against the taste of my tears
and the drink you gave me
to stop them.
Your eyes
trace their way down
my body
seeing
knowing
touching
every little sweet spot
long forgotten.
Your hands
melt into mine;
a connection revisited.
And for a moment
I see in your gaze
that (love lust longing) we shared.
I blink
and it is gone
in the moonlight
and blinking light
from your clock.
So I close my eyes
and let the smell of tobacco
in your hair
and the smile against my lips
bring me
to a dark connection
I know far too well.
We can be together.
Just one more time.
Just for tonight.

.  Smashing and crashing and angry noises
Name themselves as Mommy's toyses
   And only when the last enemy's killed
Can Mommy's tears cease being spilled.

   So **** and slash and mutilate:
Spill out your rage - and all your hate.
  Cause when you're done and they're all dead,
We know you'll tuck us in to bed.

   With our goodnight kiss, we'll say our prayers;
You'll ask our dreams to ease our cares.
   And when we wake up, fresh and bright,
You'll be happy, and hold us tight.

I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

.
.
.
I keep on thinking...



why do some people leave
someone hanging?
.
.
.
and just let them cry with a

?

or an

!

or a

,

and not a

.

What dragging us to cold anguish...


                   ...is this loud silence.