It was 3 PM on a Tuesday
in the summer, just before
my first semester of college.
I went out on a whim and
bought a cheetah print lava
lamp for forty six dollars
at some stand in the mall,
despite you persistently
advising me not to
waste money on
"insignificant ****"

The next day it rained
from 7 AM until 5 PM
and I forced you to lie
in bed with me all day,
with the curtains drawn
& the lights out.
I wanted us to observe
the weird, red
shapes forming
inside my new cheetah
print lava lamp...
Something about it
captivated me.
I never had one as a kid,
And you just sat there
holding my hand for
fifty eight minutes before
I whispered, "did you see
how pretty that one was?"

You laughed gently
and shifted your eyes
toward my dresser,
at which point
I realized
that was the very first time
you looked away from me
since we had laid down
And
with that thought,
the butterflies
woke so chaotically,
I thought I'd never
catch my breath

I wonder if you ever remember the nights
where all I did was listen to you breathe
and no nightmares came

I don't remember what it's like anymore
to feel at peace with a human, comfortable
because I want to cover myself in scars
so maybe I can finally toughen up
and get use to no one wanting
or loving me

i think my feel box is malfunctioning, i gotta find a screwdriver to pop off the faceplate and inspect the insides. it keeps saying the latitude and longitude aren’t localized. i can’t calibrate it because i’m up in the air. it flickers when it beeps and my static causes feedback. birds don’t know anything about artificial connective tissue, but they know all about falling.

Gently brushing your almond skin with my lips
along that perfect curve between your shoulder and neck.
Soft bites to couple the kisses.
You murmur incoherently.
Slight confusion and alarm at being taken from one realm
and ****** into this waking world.
My hand gently caresses your thigh and I can feel your hand
slowly moving to meet mine.
Our fingers entwine
and you grasp it tightly.
A rock in this storm of conciousness.
Then you slowly turn over,
Our lips meet.
Your eyelashes fluttering against mine
and I can feel your smile.
Perfection.

There's a song bird in my chest I can no longer suppress.
Please excuse me while I allow myself the luxury of craziness:
I can't help that you're scared, I was scared too
And still made myself vulnerable for the sake of giving something to you
Yet never was I ever given a chance to soar, and it's sad I'm getting used to being this sore.
Of course it's gonna end the same
But someone give me a start and I'll make you grow
I speak love in a language you don't yet know.
I wanna bend in a thousand directions
Like the sun does, like light does, like life in my bones exploding
Cause for a moment time stopped without anyone else knowing.
I don't want to jump in for the sake of your loneliness
The same one I've learned to live with
Like listening to the blues beautifully for some reason it soothes me
Cause when I take that dive I dive deep.
I'm leaving soon and life may not always rhyme
But I'll still think of you and smile from time to time.

Thirteen week bump,
Thirty four week lump.

Tummy flutters,
Excited mutters.

Boy or a Girl,
Ultrasound swirl.

"Wow! Congratulations".
Silent commiserations...

Her friends all excited,
and she not invited.

Scream at the smiling,
hurt from the beguiling,

of the unknowing monsters.
The mothers and fathers,

of children not quite existing,
egg like and nesting.

They don't know her agony,
being in perfect anonymity.  

but it eats her insides,
like a child that resides,

or once did.

So she logs off of Facebook
Where she can only look

and then logs back on again
Does she enjoy this pain?

One day she cracked
and her emotions hacked

through her rational thought
and she gasps like fish just caught

Shhh, It is okay. It is okay
one point seven second delay

Delete it now.
You stupid cow!

What were you thinking?
Oh you've been drinking.

Facebook friends
and their mid twenty trends

You will have yours one day
Like Anne, who was thirty three?

Just log off now and get on with life.
I can't... Oh look Hannah has a wife!

She makes the sand,
the sand seep away.
Little locket on her chest,
with her steps a gentle sway.
Though her eyes cast
a tender gaze,
her fiery heart sets the sky ablaze.

Dry rain and dry puddles,
never will she stop.
'Til she stumbles to her knees,
the dusty ground, fiercely hot.
She cries out in pain
and laughs through tears,
a withered smile
of withered years.

She sees me.

Her faces relaxes,
her lungs give out,
her limbs betray her
and with one final strain she says:
*I can't hate.