Sacral, sacred, ******, sensual, satiated, subtle, superior

Svadhisthana entwines. In and out. Creativity and ***.
The more you engage yourself with another
the stronger the bond becomes in your sacral region
So the stronger the bond,
the harder it is to break.

Firsts especially. First love. First ****. First whatever.
Orange and bright and with long creeping fingers
reaching into you and wrapping around you.

Do you ever wonder why after
a bad breakup...
you can't seem to do anything?
Your creativity is gone.
Any motivation. Everything aches.
You have guilt and a sinking feeling of loss.

It's Svadhisthana. It's your sacral being
which has been entwined with something
too much
too deep
too intense

and now you're stuck
and forever you're stuck
in this place where each person
you sleep with
is constantly
there
somewhere
in
your
head

You knocked on my door:
"You ready to go?"
And I took your hand
and we walked the streets of Teplice.

It began to rain
and we ran, laughing
Gelato on our faces,
questions giggling out of our smiles
How easy it was.

You sat close to me
in the opera house on the stairs
we were alone and you pointed
out a fake tree and said it looked like a person
"Ghost stories!" you cheered
and I said,
"Absolutely not!!"
We laughed, bumping shoulders
hearts racing more as we looked
outside of ourselves.

I joined you on your beds,
which you pushed together
foamy and orange mattresses
uncomfortable wooden space
in between us.
More the reason to scoot closer
to you.

I waited
and you froze there in the dark
and I said, "***** it"
and leaned over to kiss you.
How young and innocent it was.

Who knew, that one kiss
would lead to this
pained and empty heart
memories smoky and distant in my peripheral
I sigh again as I remove my bandaid
my knee is skinned and my arm is bruised
I've tried everything to get rid of you
but you are stuck
wedged into my heart
like a shard of mirror or glass

It's cloudy outside
I checked the weather where you are
cloudy too...slight chance of rain
same here.

I sit in a coffee shop
up to my eyes in work
and still I can't shake you.
Whatever you are.
No longer a person, but a spirit of some kind
still breathing down my neck
your cologne lingering
on my shoulder

How I wish you would go away
your prescence makes me ill
in my mind and spirit.
but I can't
can't let you be free...
no matter how hard I try
or no matter how many times I think I let go

I can't.

Probably because you said after I'm done
here, in Texas
that maybe we could start again
but I know
you wouldn't really want that.

you hate me.
don't you.

it's ok.

i hate me too.

You crossed my mind again
a bitter taste formed on my tongue
like the coffee that has sat too long
I wish you were absent from my memories
but you stick like the gum under my desk
and seep under my mind's door like muddy water

I forget that bitter taste sometimes
when I think of you
It's like honeyed trash, sweet at first,
and then sour and gag inducing.
Your memory makes me ill.
Sick to my stomach
to my mind.

You'd think, after this time, you
would be less present
And yet, here you are in the palm of my hand
sticking your finger in my face
and giving me hell while I still flounder
to figure out who I am.

Bless you, *******, I hate you, I love you.
All words. Spoken. To. You.

I wish I could rip that memory from my mind
but I can't because you sunk your claws so deep
that my blood runs black from your toxic waste
I wish, I want, I can't, I won't.
All things. Spoken. To. You.

Sweetness is graced by the sun that yields the first crop
And sweetness is graced by the kiss that yields the first touch.
For you, though unaware of me composing
my thoughts and intentions towards you
brace the wind with compassionate care
In a constant state of thoughtful presence.
You turn toward the sun, just like me
away from the shadows, away from the idea
of something bad in this world.
For nothing is bad, but simply not good
and simply, will always get better.
For I have told myself this a thousand times
and it is hard to believe
but easier to believe when someone like you
runs your fingers through my hair
looks at me with intentional interest
and care, and understanding, and a desire to know more.
For you, the sunflower I hold
are warm and canary yellow
and you flutter in my arms like the bird I hear
across the crystal waters of the ocean song.

You're just another girl I ******.
You're nothing more than a girl
I ******.
I was to say this to you.
I want you to hear it.
Day after Day
in your head
until it drives you crazy.
Because
it's becoming more and more
apparent to me
That you do not DESERVE
who I am
what I am

You're just another girl I've ******.

My body is like patchwork
with threads through and through
keeping me together
keeping me from you.

Under these patches
are open wounds, sores
that bleed and are blackened
by the blood dried into my core

I am clawed at in the middle of the night
Haunted by something,
by someone who drags me into a hell
and sits on the edge of my bed,
pillow in hand,
over my mouth.

I suffocate,
the memories are shoved into my throat
like cotton
like paper
like razors
peeling back my skin on my wrists

I start up in shock
I haven't seen those scars for years.
Sob. Sob. Sob.
Ruthless. Unhealthy. Obsession.
I see the fuzz come into my vision
only the corners
as I fade back into the dark game of dreams
night terrors. Far from dreams.

Haunted by
you and him and her and him and her and him and her and her and her and him and her...
Those open wounds covered never spoken of
I tie my strings tighter
pull myself together
and scoff at the fear.

We wait, with baited breath,
for the summer to finally arrive.
And yet, when that summer
engulfs our lives
We are in stasis.
Our passions, our drive
are emptied into the warm
lonely days,
Where we seek solitude
and yet company from those
who makes us feel.
We lose ourselves in each other
and fall backwards into arms
that we wished so dearly to escape
from, and now, can't get enough of.
Our passions begin to divide
and our path is no longer clear
as that bright sun moves across
the day and burns our skin
to a crisp, candy apple.
Summer brings about the best
and the worst of my desires,
how quickly I wish the fall
to come.