she hates me.
she doesn't know me.
she took him away.

her eyes are brown but they're tinted green with the scales of the monster that lurks beneath.

her fingernails are short but they grow sharp into claws and take him away from me because of the green monster that lurks in her fingertips.

her words are sweet but they cut me with the teeth of the green scaled monster that inhabits her tongue.

and he lets her.
and he lets her.
and he lets her.

She remembers his touch,
His desire to
Please.
----------------------------------------
Not for the sake of reward,
Just out of love
Love.
----------------------------------------
She yearns to feel
Him
Firmer, Fiercer.
----------------------------------------
She squirms
Beneath his
Grip.
----------------------------------------
“You don’t look
Like
you want me to stop.”
----------------------------------------
A flutter; a
Gasp.
Enough.
----------------------------------------
Release before –
She
Can’t let go.
----------------------------------------
Why do we crave?

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --
because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

"One is the loneliest number,"
but I like being alone - sometimes.
I don't like being home alone,
too jumpy for complete solitude,
would prefer to spend time with someone
when we're in separate rooms because
distant sounds of life are more comforting
than no sounds at all.

Music is good at filling in the gaps,
it twists up the stairs and under doors
until the house bursts (into song).
It's like colours for your ears,
not quite your housemate coughing downstairs,
but it fits in with being alone
being alone fits in with music
being alone doesn't fit in with people.

By the bus stop
By the lake
By the curb beside my leg
In the sun
Or in the rain
In the cold
I'm shivering in
Wait wait wait wait
Waiting for the falling rain
In a drought has never been
I am atoning for my sin
Wait wait wait wait
Waiting for the flowers to bloom
In a winter storm has never been
I am barely holding it in
Wait wait wait wait
For the love of god
My soul to take
I cannot run from my fate
If it is to waste away while I wait

Sometimes you're the table and sometimes you're its legs.

Either way, you've gotta carry some weight.