Varying degrees of sobriety
Unleash the ebb and flow of my emotions

Burning liquid
Turned love potion

My once firm reserve
Begins to bend and curve

As the tonic trickles down my throat
Melting into a burning sensation in my gut

I tingle.
I feel so intensely.

Touch me.
I can show you how.

My words are unchecked.
I crave you now.

Grasp me,
Pulling me into a rough, carnal embrace,
Reveal your desire.

My body moves and sways to a rhythm only you produce,
No other hears it quite like I do.

Your gravity draws my inner divinity out,
Slow, raw, pure, woman.

Like honey from the comb,
I'm exposed,
Waiting for you to consume me.

The fire builds,
As each movement delivers new sensations.

I'm wholly lost,
Guided only by your body.
Don't ever stop.

I feel your need to consume me completely,
I relinquish control with a shiver and a moan.

And finally,
You're overcome with me.

Night hiking through the last of the giant fields
Deserted farm land in between brand new townhouse complexes
Your new found Australian shepherd is herding us
Charging ahead and circling back to make sure we’re coming

The grass is up to our waists
We’re walking to walk
making daisy chains
testing butter cups under our chins,
******* honeysuckle
lightning bugs flicker

The twilight moon is already high in the sky
Our breath is white -
It’s just a bit too cold out

We smoke and talk and shiver
I keep looking at my watch and can’t concentrate
I start to wish I was home cuddled under blankets bingeing on junk food watching tv.
It’s been a bit too long with you today

After we walk home and you leave, then I miss you

Moonlight.
Finally – sleep.

I think of her
running her hands over your hair and across your face
and it makes me sick.

Because I know I get frustrated with the way you want me
and it may seem I don't appreciate you
and I know I need to work on letting you have your space.

But she doesn't know you're self-conscious of your scars
or that touching them makes you squirm.
She's going to try to kiss you
and maybe you'll let her
but then she'll find out your lips are soft like clouds
and she'll never want to stop.

She's going to start growing weak when you speak
because every word has a meaning
and eventually she'll learn which smile is the one that means you've let go of the past
- if only for the moment.

She'll start to grow sad when you need time alone.
She doesn't know that painting's your whole life
and she won't understand.
She won't know that writing's the way you escape
when your mind is too narrowed on your past to focus on the future.

Because you won't tell her about Nigeria
or why you have to feel in control
or maybe you will, once you're sure she's the one.

But I guess if she makes you happy, I'm happy.
Because that's all I've ever wanted for you.
No wait - I'm not that selfless
because I still love you, too...

I am greedy, angry, needy
for the feel of your soft breathing
easing through my freezing lips.
Self destructive thoughts I'm feeling;
for your heart is an intriguing contrast
to the fleeting sense of beating
in this black hole in my chest,
sinking underneath the feeble sense
of overheated thinking for
why you treat me like your dearest,
not a whispered, awkward greeting
or a bleeding, broken weakling.
Though, if you ever came to leaving
I'd be grieving for the teasing thought
of believing that my life
once had a beaming sense of meaning.

Listen,
I've got guilt choking all of my good juju.

I’m sorry I told you we’d hang out
just so I could come over
to watch Breaking Bad.
You know I need that
weekly crystalbluepersuasion.

I’m sorry I didn't sit on the porch steps
with you afterward
while you had your evening cigarette.
(I could have done that at least.)

I imagined you
sitting there
watching me
drive down the street &
out of your sight—
a lit cigarette hung limply from your lips.

I felt your disappointment &
I cursed my mother for teaching me
to have such a sharp sense of empathy.

I know I’ll never be badass enough
not to care.
I realize I was born to give
one too many *****.
I've learned to accept it
as my incessant character flaw.

(It could be worse.)

Although,
I have to be honest,
I get my kicks
entertaining the notion
that for one evening
I was
the one that got away.

In a moment of weakness
I said that I felt
like I was in your world now-
and it's true.

And don't get me wrong,
it's less than ideal,
But I still feel
so much more sorry for you.

Because I am in your head now,

And this time
it's going to take more than
a tank of gas,
a quick **** from someone new,
a million hits from whatever **** you're smoking now, or
a few bottles of whiskey
to get rid of me.

I never had a choice.
This reality has always been my truth,
(And it might be overdue)
but the only difference is
that  now it includes you.