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pat Oct 2014
Did you see the trees, the way they separate?
Did you see the air behind them, all oblong and jagged framed?
Each branch turning into another,
separating and connecting,  again and again.
Slow, complex growth.
It was natural progression at its finest.
and didn't you feel the way I looked at you?
or did you see it?  It was nothing.
No, it was something. It really is.
The way you are, the way we act,
How we want to act.
The little things I bring you , all those gifts,
they mean something too.
I could say it, but I try not to.
I said "I can't help but keep you in mind"
I meant to hesitate.
Everything I do, there's purpose behind it.
The feelings aren't complicated.
It's a situation,
far from ideal and clearly exciting.
It built up.
The tension felt like long years,
patiently watching in some sort of humble admiration.
But the way you do things, it's getting to me.
It's this appreciation,
for every cell, every action, and every opinion.
It's all so fascinating and it's been filling my head.
Thoughts tricking me in my sleep,
turning life into wondering days.
Your ways, should they be complimented by my ways?
Because, I always found this exciting:
not knowing, not doing,
never asking.
I thought maybe it's enough, what it is.

But for an instant, everything changed.  
Passion and desire took physical form.
The experience, the moment,
it was fast and intense,
and that reveal has wrapped itself around me ever since.
Apprehensive ways were filtered into something else.
Bad undertones, caught in the strainer and set aside.
We could be so innocent,
and we can enjoy what's been neglected.
A mutual leap, hand in hand.
Hands strong and without hesitation,
moving your skin like raw clay,
pushing, clenching.
Comparable to a surgeons precision.
Confidence backing every movement.
Fluid, and naturally rough.
Rough, like the way I pulled your hair.
Precise, like the way I bit your neck.
It was exactly where you'd have me.
Almost harder than you'd ask.
Face to face. My lead.
Me against you.
Your back against the wall.
A strong and careful force,
moving my left to grab your throat,
while the right falls at your ready hip.
The spot I've been dying for.
It's just the way they look.
Smooth skin over hard bones.
Smooth skin that leads into your jeans,
and travels up into your shirt.
Places I shouldn't go,
but there you are, and I see how you feel this.
It feels like you want it to feel.
I feel that way too.
Excitement is at full throttle,
yet, overall comfort is keeping me steady.
A grip on your hip pulls you in closely,
face to face, lips touching lips.
Not just touching, but for the first time.
Not kissing, but desperate to.
That feeling revealed.
This is what it's like, and this is what it sounds like.
Your voice, only raspy air.
Sort of like a whisper.
Not words, but sounds of enjoyment.
Warm breath meeting mine.
Exchanging.
Feeling control, then lightning strikes.
You playfully bite my lip causing me to exhale.
Caught off guard
Completely high off you and the way you feel.
At the peak of an experience, almost overwhelming.
Everything led up to that moment,
and if I could have stayed there, I would have.
It was too much and it was not enough.
pat Oct 2014
humble ways
of humble men
will crumble in
your apparition
pat Oct 2014
troubled by
what you do
what you say
you're terrible
pat Oct 2014
Um,
         well I think stuff I guess..


I don't know
pat Oct 2014
I pursue girls and love
because I am a *******
pat Oct 2014
do you think I'm bad
because I do bad things
pat Oct 2014
I smile at my everlasting loyalty
I laugh at my ridiculous behavior
I search your name on Google
I locate all your accounts
I browse through all your twitter things
I find your videos to be obnoxious
I fixate on your photos
I see you've stuck with the short hair look
I ask people if they know you
I cringe when they talk about you
I wonder if you are bad
I grin because I am hopeless
I sigh  because I am helpless
I hope I cross your mind
I guarantee I don't
I mythologize you on accident
I pretend that this is not that serious
I see people act like this  sometimes
I regret starting this poem  
I dream about you frequently
I create you to be perfection
I own the setting, the dialogue, and the personality
I wake up feeling desperate
I contemplate contacting you
I remember the last time we talked
I think it went so-so
I bothered you many times over the years
I got out of hand
I fear that there is nothing I can change
I wish sappily when I see shooting stars
I met you a decade ago
I figure you still act the same
I bet I still would tense up around you
I love you unconditionally
I want you to know who I am
I doubt you ever will
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