I have a crush on you
and I haven't met you 
I don't want to meet you
But I want you to fall in love with me

we grew apart and back together, 
days and then weeks and then years 
our friendship
as tumultuous
yet predictable
as the waves are to the shoreline

friends
and fights
and boys
passed us by
as we gripped hands tightly
..mostly to your dismay

you were never the type
to need a sidekick
I was always the type
to be one 

our relationship a fragile flame
always on the verge
of flickering out for good

but we kept it alive
just barely
through these past few years

apologies and soliloquies
mostly on my part
entitled forgiveness
on yours

giving you the power
to push me down
just a Little bit further
every time

I was so nervous to meet you
Double and triple checking my reflection in the mirror
Making sure I was who I thought I was.
Who you wanted me to be.

Mind abuzz with anxious questions
What if he doesn't like me?
What if
What if
What if


You called me, you're outside
Heart fluttering with the excited madness Id grown to associate with talking to you
One last glance..
Coating my lips with pink deceit
I stepped out the door
Stepped out to your eyes on me
Vulnerability radiating through the blush in my cheeks ..
What if


You made me comfortable with your shy smile and raspy voice
You made me laugh
teasing the insecurities from my soul so effortlessly.
At the time I was amazed at how well you did that.
Not even thinking that it had less to do with your humorous demeanour, and more to do with my own brightness
my willingness to see the best parts of you.
I wish you'd done the same for me.


I felt like myself with you.
I felt good.
Safe within my bones.
For once I wasn't taking up TOO much space.
For the first time in a long time
I was just enough.

I could feel the heat rising through my body, but instead of pushing it away, I basked in it
Instead of avoiding your persistent gaze when you said "I just want to look at you"
I let you look.
Only barely wondering if you liked what you saw.
I thought you did.
You seemed like you did.
You were a good actor.


Back at my place and you're making me laugh at my pathetic inability to drink beer at a respectable rate
My mind is only half on what you're saying.
I can't help watching the way your lips stretch over your teeth as you speak.
I can't help wondering what you taste like.

I'm in the middle of a sentence and in a spontaneous gesture of boldness
you grab my head.
kissing me.
hard softness practically devouring me.

You tasted faintly of bubblegum and the beer you were so playfully teasing me about
Kissing you felt as easy as breathing.
And almost as necessary.

You matched my shyness step for step.
Tentatively exploring that intimate part of me.
Sampling my soul just as much as you were the minty tang of my lip balm.

Absorbed in your touch
My mind was quiet
Exquisitely free of that question
What if

I could feel your breath sending shivers across my skin long after you told me goodbye.
Told me it was a pleasure meeting me.
I believed you.
Stupid girl.

As seamless a transition as snow melting into rain.
you stopped talking to me.
Stopped with your sweet nothings.
Stopped with your charming wit.

Why?
Because I wasn't what you thought.
You told me this when I finally mustered the courage to ask you what was wrong.

We don't talk anymore.
But I still sometimes can't help wondering
If you had taken the time to get to know me
flor who I was
instead of the arbitrary image of what I looked like to you
Would things be different?
If you had asked yourself
What if.

"You look like you want to kiss me"
"I do"
"....Well go on then"

I lost track of the kisses you gave me
Over those 2 days
But I never forgot the first

Your chin at my shoulder
Breath of free tequila misty on my cheek
Curve of your smile
Minty tang of lip balm

Blurry faces all around
Only seeing you
Lips brush
Tongues dance
Softly sampling

Colours flash
Music courses through
Only feeling you

You led me to the exit
My hand clasped firmly within yours
Clearing a path for us
Through the sea of bodies
As though keeping me safe
Was your only job description

You held the door for me
A gentle reminder
That chivalry is alive and well
Taking me home
Decidedly
Confidently
No trace of the mind games
I've come to expect

As the golden elevator doors closed
With each passing level
My insecurities fell away like leaves
So that when the gold melted away
And you softly asked me
If I was sure
You knew beyond a doubt
That I was

You recognized the walls I'd built
And then you set upon your task
Of knocking them down
Pinning my hands to the bed
You sampled me brick by brick
Making sure I knew
That you liked what you tasted

As I began to settle into you
You took a hammer to my flaws
Sent them scattering
Shattering years of self doubt
Imploding my elaborate castle of fears
And ever so effectively
Crumbling It to the ground

I can't be certain when it happened.
The day the moment or the year.
I suppose in the end it doesn't really matter
The outcome will inevitably be the same

I wish I could somehow go back and change the script
erase a few lines here, cross out a chapter or two there
redefine my story
Streamline it to be just how I imagined

I always admired it when I saw it
that way it has of turning a person into brightness
the light you just can't help but notice
As if a thousand stars are twinkling relentlessly just beneath their skin

I swear I had it too
one moment I could feel the steady pull of it pulsing through my limbs
burning me on the inside

you know the kind of heat I mean
the kind that walks that fine line between pain and pleasure
like you're staring into fire that you can't help be mesmerized by..
still knowing that at any moment you could turn your hand
to the cheerful crackling and feel the deceit as it bleeds angrily into your skin.


It burns in that satisfying way of a just healing sunburn across your shoulders
tender and raw enough that you can feel every ounce of your vulnerability
But you can also feel your resiliency. your ability to heal
And it reminds you of how the torched sand felt beneath your shoulders
And all you can see is the sun on the back of your eyelids
like a desert of fire the stretches the span of a lifetime
And suddenly it doesn't seem so bad

It's not important what it came from
back when it was this fragile, breakable thing
What's important is the twisty sinister path it took to get there

It could have been my naivety
my refusal to acknowledge as my vulnerability turned so eerily into a condescension that dripped like honey from an equally naive paw

But here's the thing, our lives are only a series of moments.  
One moment, or a thousand, that have the potential to change your life, if you let it.
Flashbulbs exploding constantly. Light so dazzling that if we took the time to stop and examine the endless possibilities within each one, we'd almost certainly be blinded.
The problem is that each moment is so easily forgotten or misimagined.
Neatly packaged away  and efficiently lost in the trenches of time.

Like I said.
I don't know when it happened
The day the moment or the year
but I know what it felt like
and I know it's worth it.

awake.
gazing out across the sparkling city skyline some ten stories above where I imagined I had left my carefully constructed common sense
I had felt it falling away as the elevator carried us higher and higher..
towards what I wasn't sure but I swore I could feel it taking my insecurities along with it, littering the ground with layer after later of things I supposed I wouldn't be needing tonight...

The blazing fire of your gaze across the small space confirmed my suspicion..
eyes voraciously shattering the last of my anxieties into oblivion.

breath.
holding it just as you held my hand.. Leading me through the sliding balcony doors
a minty breeze assaulting my senses
tickling my face as I felt
your lips on the back of my neck
tongue teasing any remaining tension from my shoulders until all that was left was want

shivers.
the same kind you sent zinning
down my spine as you pushed
me back against the railing
fear of heights forgotten
in the dizzying high
of your breath in my lungs
laughter from the streets below reduced to a soft whisper as you explored the once unknown planes of my body.

listen.
to the whispers of our clothing as they fall from our skin
littering the floor just like my long forgotten common sense.

feel.
Your lips
Your hands
Your mouth
Oh god your mouth.
Spiralling me further and further away from everything I knew before you

alive.
walking back to my car
a cool wind as rude as a shot of cold water upon my skin
Reality
Insecurities
common sense

Awake.

I wrote to you last week.
All pathetic and full of angsty yearning.
Pouring my feelings for you onto the page; bleeding inky tears my eyes were and still are too stubborn to cry.
I told you that I miss you.
That just like a plague, the thought of you relentlessly pushes it's way into my days.
Into my head.


I know when you read my words you felt triumphant.
Powerful even.
Like my affinity to write about you only proves my weaknesses.
That my failure to get over you proves just how hard I fell for you.


You wrote to me last week.
A love letter?
No.
There was a time when I would have answered that question with my eyes. A hopeful glance, wet and shiny with the tinge of unrequited love.
But no. Your words bled manipulative deceit across the screen.
Page? No.
You've never been that eloquent.
That blatantly romantic.
Except when you were..
For me.
One of the things I loved about the idea of you.


I can still feel the butterflies fluttering furiously in my stomach, heart racing as I read those words for the first time "I love you"
But how depressing that I read them.
I didn't hear your sweet voice whisper them into my ear, sending delicious shivers down my spine.
I read them on a harshly bright screen.
A bright screen that assaulted the stark darkness surrounding me.
Safely tucked away beneath a pile of blankets.
Alone.
So in love.
And so alone.


My days consisted of daydreaming of the life we would have together.
The perfect life.
One that I desperately and furiously convinced myself was inevitable.
So close to tangible that if I reached high enough or hoped hard enough for, I could feel my fingertips brush the curtails of that exquisite illusion. Because my love, all that we ever had was a beautifully perfect, wonderfully magical idea.
Full of enchantment and potential.
It hurts even now to think about what we lost.
But how can you lose something that you never had?
I can't understand it.
We were a shade of grey flickering insubstantially next to the kaleidoscope of colours that is reality.


I wish I had a letter from you.
Something I could hold next to my physical being.
Something that can't get lost within the trenches of cyber space.
Wind maybe, but baby I would clutch it too close to me, it would never, could never, fly away.
I want something to hold against my heart. To be able to trace my fingertips across the indentations of your pen.
I'm jealous of that pen.
Of it getting the chance to be grasped within the comforting softness of your hand.
For taking the place of my hand.


I want something to prove that I had you.