10 p.m.
My head hits the pillow.
My mind begins its marathon of thoughts that always end with you at the finish line.
Your plot to weaken me grows,
with every flashing glow from my phone.

12 a.m.
Electrical charges pulse back and forth from our lips.
A conversation on steroids.
I dread the withdrawal,
Until all that is left is my own wishful thinking.

3 a.m.
A hot waterfall of emotions slipping down my back.
Vulnerability, guilt, and pride swirl into a tornado down the drain.
Flinging on a robe, I leap to write down all hopeless fantasies of our romances.
Only evoking my insides to dance once more.

5 a.m.
Eyes blink rapidly.
Bricks lay across the body, but the heart weighs no more than a feather.
He types letters onto a screen to me like gasoline fueling a fire.
He places a match in my hands,
As he flees the scene.

I long to take a breath of air.
Uncontaminated air.
Air not poisoned by pride.
Air not masked in a fog of filth.
Air that is pure and clean and innocent.
Air that fills my lungs with life,
Instead of the air that blackened my core.
I no longer breathe in your oxygen.
For now, you are the carbon dioxide
I expel from my soul.
Into the mars of ruins you constructed.
My world is of peace and purity,
where you shall be excommunicated.

I want to take a bath in a pile of leaves.
I want to stuff snow into my pockets.
I want to bake cookies out of rain.
I want to fuel my car with fog.
I want to frost cakes with clouds.
I wish the wind would pedal my bike.
I wish the thunder would sing me to sleep.
I wish the lightning would start my stove.
I wish the hail would beat down my stains.
I wish the sun would give me joy.

the waves crash as i look back at you
a moment of pure inhibition
i am unable to contain
the feelings bottled up inside of me
like a ship waiting to be pulled out of the glass that captures it
captivated by the waves
or by the flicker in your eyes

my phone glows with a message from you and
a mini spark ignites somewhere deep inside of me.
your smile is plastered on my screen and
my face mirrors you.
you say words like they are water,
nothing out of the ordinary.
yet, you turn water into wine,
adding your own magic touch.
your honey-golden presence
turns into a forest fire between my legs.
getting lost in your eyes is like trying to count the stars,
endlessly overwhelming.
the moment you take hold of my hand, you take hold of my beating heart.
the tears you wipe from my eyes turn to butterflies that kiss the deepest parts of your soul.
and when my spirit becomes a desolate desert of despair, you envelop me into the warmth of your wings, and i am home again.

"he's not yours"
is what i tell myself
when the jealousy and unresolved emotions bubble up inside me
soon to overflow into the already existing puddles of self-pity.
"he's not mine"
is what i tell myself
when i want to cross over the line to the other side
even though i know it's illegal.
"you shouldn't care"
is what i tell myself
when i play tug of war with my heart against my mind
and my heart always fights to the end.
"you're not allowed to"
is what i tell myself
when electric charges pulse through my veins
and take over my body.
"it's not going to happen"
is what i tell myself
right before i take my fist
and punch it through my own body.

what does it say about
Him. that so many girls fall
in love with his eyes