You can do it now, if you want.
Get ****** up,
****** over,
Stepped on,
****** with
and just plain ******.

Right in your ***, if you want.

You can wallow and writhe
in miserys mud, carve a new scar
and think it's all your fault,
If you want.

You can even throw a bag
of your body parts into the river,
if that's your kind of happy.
You can do it now, if you want.

You can drop the false smiles
and start telling these mother *******
how it really is, also.

It's ok to drop a little venom in the tea
because these ***** have ****** on the carpet
too many times and nobody likes
a loud mouth drunk *****.

Some just have it coming and I'm ok with being the one that gives it to them.
Because I can.
So can you, if you want.

So if it's a toss up between
getting ****** or
rising above,
bend over ***** because
I'm not letting you
stand in my way.

My blood runs thick
for those I love.
If you are mine
you feel it in your bones
and I am the sound
of sugar that makes you wet.

am not kissing you
within five seconds
of seeing your eyes
in shared sunlight,
then the earthworms
will swarm to our
feet and by seven seconds
our tongues will touch
and the universe will
stop holding it’s breath,
knowing our time has begun.

It's only you,
my dearest, my darkest;
it's only your
soft voice I hear
in the small hours.

These lilac bushes breathe
your name and the soil listens,
remembering everything.

It's only a whisper
of rose oil and
amber, of silk and
skin.

Just a whisper.

It's only you
in the small hours.