His personality,
Geeky yet refined.
His knowledge incredible,
Even his love.

When you meet a guy,
Your heart screams try.
Mine did..

I believe
it was Neruda
who once said
‘Tonight
I can write the saddest lines’.
Well I guess
tonight,
I can write
books,
encyclopaedias,
libraries
and still never say enough.
You are the words in my sentence
and the poem in my pen,
even now.

I don't want pretty flowers
or jewels from distant lands
nor a glass of sparkling champers
as we eat in restaurants grand.
I have no need for riches
nor to lay on foreign sands,
I just want all my clothes ripped off
by rough and eager hands.

Do not unwrap me gently
like fragile, precious gifts,
please tear and break me open
with your teeth and passions kiss.
Don't take me to the bedroom
to conform in cotton sheets
as beds are made for comfort
and not for what I seek.

These walls are made for leaning,
and the table aims to please,
this carpet made for placing
stinging burns on hands and knees.
Or take me to the garden
make me scream unto the sun
and roll me round in morning dew
until the deed is done.

Take note of these instructions
and my sweet spot you will find
You've followed them a thousand times,
though only in my mind.

Nothing brings more joy to me,
Than dark skies and thunder claps,
Heaven's sprinklers dousing the land,
Pounding on roof tops, surging down drains.
The dark skies casting down life's very sustanance,
Bring on the floods of torrential rains,
I'm dying to dance in the streets,
And feel the water soak into my clothes,
Drenching me to the very core of my being,
Because I just can't get enough of dark skies.

The moon hangs up high
And the stars fill the black sky
I heard the wolf cry

They say the past is in the past. That whoever you were two years ago doesn't matter right now. Because in this moment, you're exactly who you want to be. But the truth is that even if I cut my hair up to my shoulders, change my name and move five thousand miles away, I'll still be the same little girl who's frightened by her own reflection. The last time I sliced open my own skin was over six months ago but some days, I still can't help but think of ways I could hurt myself. People do change, but there is always that small part inside of them that knows who they once were, and how capable they are of becoming that person again.