An action. Never-ending.  
It's the way I love because I love the wrong way.
I lust for items, I lust for touch.
Most of all, I lust for us to be chest to chest.
With ragged breathing, sweaty palms.
Wet lips and all thought gone.
No gentle whispers.
No soft clutch.
To be held tight. To be kissed rough.
I do not lust for hand holding or that over used, three worded phrase.
The only three words I lust for are 'I want you'.
The only whisper be our skin brushing together.
Nails raking down your back.
A sigh of ecstasy at a long-awaited ******.
And when my body hungers for more,
Lust will call you back to my door.

Sun up till sun down
Trapped in a perpetual frown
Moon comes then she goes
Drops free fall from my nose

Waking hours in the daylight
Aimless motions; clumsy, puppet-like
Waking hours in the night
Uncomfortable in my own skin and psych

Sleeplessness be my companion
Restlessness be my actions
Despondence be my demon
Crest fallen be my reason

Frantically sifting through my head
Vertically upright or supine in bed
Compartmentalising might be key
To fend off self inflicted insanity

Desperation hangs overhead; ripe and bruised
Excuses upon excuses ridiculously overused
Furiously typing before my mind curds
Hopes of finding peace in these unspoken words

yesterday's pain
could be tomorrow's
grace.

You just have to
wake up and find-out
for yourself.

An absent father's failure with an inhaler in hand

Insecurity seething from his skin

Manifesting it's self as bulbous red abrasions on his forehead

A heavy breathing child who's eyes were often aimed low

His expectations for life even lower

A little over weight but not enough to concern his pediatrician

He cut gym class a lot because of the showers

Now fourteen he had seen a few ******

He knew he didn't match up

It was better that no one knew he thought

He went on living like this

A pale shadow hovering in the halls

A faceless nobody in the background of someone else's group photo

A ghost who was only noticed by those who tortured him

Bullies like sharks can smell blood in the water

And he was chum

I still vividly see the feeding frenzy

I still remember the day we were told he took his own life

NO shrieks, NO cries, NOT even a whimper was heard

Almost a concerted sigh of boredom

That night there was a party

Not to celebrate his death

But an apathetic gesture of his nonexistence

I attended as was socially expected of me

Even wore a smile

But my mind wrestled with his suicide

I thought of how much I hated him

I hated the smell of his weakness

I hated the 'poor me' attitude

I hated him for taking his own life

Leaving me to feel guilty

That I had done nothing to help him

As if I was responsible in some way

...

I tell him to go deep.
Deep into my soul

I tell him to go harder.
To break down my walls

I tell him to go faster.
I needed our ******

All that's said and done.
I lay here legs shaking & out of breath.
Exhausted
Now I'm alone.
He did all that work.
Built me up.
*Just to leave me to pick up my pieces

We joke sometimes
about falling in love,
we talk in deep detail
about our romance;
the kind of house we want,
the name of the family dog,
would we rather have boys or girls,
and we argue over who will stay home
to raise the kids, I always let you win.

We joke sometimes
about growing old together;
we talk about thinning hair,
wrinkling skin, tired eyes
and energized grand kids.
We promise to one another
that we will stay in love,
still hold hands, hug each other tightly
and kiss both daily and nightly

We joke sometimes
about a life we could be living
and I just want you to know
that I am not always kidding.

Your eyes
are dark and
dull...

I could've
sworn they
were bright blue
when we
first
met.