Some older once watched me drink a cup of coffee
in thirty seconds flat, I was fourteen and a half
and he said, "Don't ever take up alcohol."
I wish I'd listened. Some nights
I crave my mama's cooking, the smell
of the ocean, the strong and solid arms
of some boy I used to love
but Southern is the only comfort I can reach.

Falling asleep alone in a spinning bed is the room's
dying laughter after a good joke. Curl up. Roll over. Stretch
out. Reach for your phone to scroll for a number
you deleted again hours ago, just in case this happened.
Do you know how this happened?

The first sip went down like an accidental gulp of saltwater,
on a dark beach in late May, out of a thermos
we buried when it was empty. The rest
went down easy.

alcohol won't unlock
                            the smoke
or the mirrors
it just
brings
                                  shivers
and makes you choke
on
your
tongue.

Right now we are bound by the chains around our wrists.
Right now we are fighting with our arms raised up in fists.
Right now we are bruised and ****** and feel so weak.
Right now we would give anything just to fall asleep.

But we know we must go on,
We know we must be strong.
For sisters we are,
And to each other our hearts belong.

Right now we fight with butterflies and ink.
Right now we fight the horrible urge to drink.
Right now we lock all of our terrible secrets away.
Right now we'd give anything to just be free today.

But we know we must go on,
We know we must be strong.
For sisters we are,
And to each other our hearts belong.

I know these times are so hard and you just want to let go,
But it's through these times we have to hold strong and we just have to know
We know we must go on,
We know we must be strong.
For sisters we are,
And to each other our hearts belong.

He didn't see me.
I only existed when I was naked.
Life resumes full speed when I get dressed.
But I wanted it to stop just long enough for him to see me.
Really see me.

Now I'm cursed with longing.
Longing for validation.
Longing for someone to confirm that I exist.

If I don't get the acknowledgement,
maybe I'll disappear.
Maybe I was never here...

and that terrifies me.

She said
you don't understand
it's more than that
it's bliss
it envelops all that was
and has ever been
I said don't be silly
I want to make love
and then I want to ****
I want to play songs on your skin that your lips don't know the words to           drink the candlelight in your eyes
  get drunk like wine
  sweet as
   summer
I want to paint goosebumps on your thighs
trace the outline of our future as our shadows
  dance on the wall
I want bodies to quake in a thundering rhythm
ships soft as silk under siege by some
  unseen storm
I want to color outside the lines of your body
  scribble musings with my fingertips
  read the response with the rise of your hips
tattoo your curves like there's ink on my tongue
I want to make you hit the high notes that make the sky split open
reach the moment of utopia  
where ragged breath is broken
and for a second
gravity consumes the both of us
I want our consciousness to float, made one by unseen forces
while you lay beneath me *******
souls no longer out of focus
and words no longer spoken
rather,
cloaked in
golden    hopeful
      moments
left to float in some abyss of sacrilegious potency  
Your aroma has a pulse
    it sighs in my ear
draws me in with scented fingers
   between your thighs,   beneath your fears
I want to soak in the madness as my sight disappears
and all around us sprout the roots of prayers
   unanswered for years
I want to collect the moments I leave you breathless in a jar by my bed
so when the arch in your back leaves you on the cusp of
   paradise
             and
      lust
I’ll crack the lid
and let you feel nirvana like Buddha never did
I wanna pay homage to your eyelids
  fluttering in heavy silences
a testament to science how your stomach falls and rises
I’ll savor the way your headboard creaks
take pleasure on a ride through valleys and peaks
I want ecstasy
   and movement
      to unite
    with the clench of your fists
   your trembling lips
your sweat as it drips
onto the sheets
A sacrifice of pleasure
and the message is received
embrace the fire of each other now the Gods are intrigued
I want heaven to fade away
seeking solace in the midst of weak and shaky knees
I want to hold you as satisfaction encloses
the walls fold and collapse in on us and all that’s left in the world are
two bodies
the matrimony of synapses and
two    bodies
a mattress moaning in the blackness and
two      bodies
a matching set of sins and quick gasps and
two         bodies
In a flash I relapse and there's no
body
And now I've perused road maps, mused with psychics
read encyclopedias front to back
trying to help find my way to...
to I don't know what
no
maybe it's a who
to help find my way back to the lover I lost my love to
And then when I do
I can finally ask her
how come when we finish there’s no divinity left to hold onto?
You see
   ***
is my magnum opus, what I live for
  why I wrote this
so as I sit engrossed in thoughts that linger and control me
  I want to say I picked a lotus
watched in awe as it unfolded
melted sorrows into roses
with one colossus stroke of bones and flesh I learned the road to death
   gets bumpy
if you’re lonely.

He looks different since last time.
Perhaps you've forgotten,
preferring think of him
without a face
or even a name.

His kisses feel the same though.  
Too much tongue-
you always forget how much he uses.  
You take off your clothes like
a band-aid: all at once.  
You wait
in naked patience
for him to catch up.  

When he finally touches you
it is with passion, yes,
but not love-
you have felt enough of both
to know the difference.

Below an unsatisfied stomach,
Between tired legs,
I hold your future.
That which you conceal
and exploit as pleasure
That which you call
a Woman's Bane,
I claim it back.
I celebrate - not in victory,
But in vengeance.

If my life were a recipe
I feel like every ingredient would be followed
by the word "optional".

8 hours of sleep (optional)
Two to three meals a day (optional)
1 social life (optional)
1 job (optional)
A handful of friends (optional)
A pinch of creativity (optional)
One cup of laughter (optional)
Three heaped tablespoons of positivity (optional)

You get the idea.

But you're different.
You're the one ingredient I can't do without.
You're the one thing that matters
when I can't be bothered with the rest of it.
When all the chopping and sautéing and boiling
and grilling of everyday life
seems like too much hassle,
there's always enough time for you.
You're my quick-fix meal on a weekday evening.
You're a mid-morning snack
snatched between errands.
A quiet evening in on a Saturday
with a bottle of wine and Joni Mitchell playing
"I could drink a case of you".
I could cook you every night.
You're comfort food at its finest
unpretentious, convenient.
Never bland and never tiresome.
You're the one ingredient I'll always have in stock,
that one I'll never let myself run out of.
Because you cannot be substituted.
You, and only you, are not optional.