At times, I'm jealous
Of innocent lashes
And soft cheekbones
That lure you in,
For I was graced
With no grace at all.
But I was born
With fire in my eyes,
A razor sharp tongue,
And an insatiable hunger
That will not succumb,
And of that,
I am proud.

the cool of the winter
does nothing to keep us from panting
and sweating,
our bodies tangled in heated kisses.
the chill of his hands
and the warmth of my hips do not divide,
they multiply and i'm sure that if the sun
and the moon could come together
to make one noise,
it would sound like his voice.
you'd think the stars in the sky
would be brighter than his smile
but even sirius can't outshine him.
his eyes are filled
with planets
that have not yet been discovered
and stars that shine
ten times brighter than the sun;
his body is a galaxy
that i'm not scared to get lost in.

Even as separate and alone
As we can feel sometimes
We are all connected to
Each other in some way

This society tells us that
We are separate and we
Have to fend for ourselves
Our else someone else

Might take what I have
Or somehow take what
I own or what I have
Spent my hard earned

Money to buy and to
Obtain without thinking
About the other people
Around them who are

Needing some love and
Comfort and healing and
All they need is a kind
Word or a person to let

Them know that things
Will be ok and that
Everything will be alright
And that they can make

It one more day and
Helping each other
Where we can simply
Because we can rather

Than trying to figure
Out what we can get
From that person in
Return or trying to

Manipulate them into
Getting what we want
For our own gain and
Profit when if we just

Asked and shared with
Each other there would
Be no need for stealing
Or for wars or the need

To feel separate or alone
Because we would live
As a community of people
Actively working together

To help each other where
We needed and helping
To heal people from
The heart as well

We tend to separate and
Segregate people instead
Of acknowledging the
Beautiful diversity of

Life and of people as
Well when we should
Be celebrating our
Uniqueness while at

The same time
Understand that
We are all one
And we come

From the same
Source and that
Even though we
Might have different

Ways of feeling
Or seeing or
Interpreting things
Doesn't mean that

Someone else's view
Is wrong is just another
Way to look at something
From a different angle

Than you might have
Originally been able to
See on your own and
Being able to learn from

Each other instead of
Trying to force our
Ideas our thoughts
On another and if

We get to the point
Where we understand
We are one we could
Never hurt or harm

Or steal or even have
Wars because we would
Understand that we are
All the same and if I harm

You I am harming a piece
Of me and when you can
Get to that understanding
Of life and nature and of

People as well you will
Start to see things in a
Different way than you
Have ever seen before

you are eighteen and you're in love
with a boy who hates his birthday.
you don't know it yet,
but the world gets so much bigger than the back of his car.
you think he needs you to be happy and so does he
but both of you are wrong.
it'll take you almost a year to stop crying.
and then you don't talk for another three
and when you finally do,
he thinks he still knows you,
but your heart is heavier than it was then.
and you **** him because you're lonely
but it isn't the same.
neither of you can fake love.
at least he still makes you laugh.
you'll pretend it's enough
because at least he's a body.
at least you're not by yourself.
at least you're alive
and you're good at *******.
because bodies are distractions
from the things we hide inside them.
you have him inside you
and he wants to gut you of your ugly, your sad.
he scrambles for an excuse not to stay the night
and you laugh.
you know what this is and how it goes
and you both love someone else.
you swear you won't **** him again
but you do anyway because you're still lonely
and you like the way his hands fit around your neck.
you **** him because it's good for your art
and you get bored of your own hands on your body
and you're fine with letting him feel useful.
and you think about when you were sixteen
and how *** was supposed to be special
and it makes you cry
because you're not who you wanted to be.
it makes you cry, because the world got so much bigger
after you left the backseat of his car.
the world is so big and you don't know
how it ended up on your shoulders.
you would have died for him.
you have been ready to die for every person you have ever loved.
you have dreams where he dies
and you can't save him.
you have dreams where people die
and you can't save them
and you're the one who tied your hands.
your mangled heart and all its bleeding.
nobody asked you to die.
what good is all the love in your chest
if you don't leave any for yourself?

- m.f.

somewhere between the moon and the horizon I saw stars that reassured me things would be okay. there was rain on my skin, drops resting on his hands holding me tightly. i felt the rain and for the first time i stopped waiting for its end. lost in his grip the clouds seemed so thin. i could not see the stars tonight but i sure as hell knew they were there. you can learn a lot from the sky. something tells me the storm will soon pass and the clouds will blow over, and i know no better than to trust it. misty nights can feel so different when you are not the one raining. dewy mornings and wilted flowers aren't always a sign of the end. the cold feels so different with company; it's as if somehow the loneliness felt a lot like wind. winter's over now and i hear heat rises so it's no wonder we feel it all the way up here. and i wonder how he does it, how with every word he speaks the stars look a little brighter. i have this feeling that his stars are different, they will not burn out and they will not hide and when they fall i will not blame them, he will write a new galaxy. it's amazing how such a cosmic boy could wind up in my sky after countless years of hopeless gazing. i think we're floating now; cloud 9's never felt more like home.