if our first kiss
was my last kiss
I'm not sure if
I would miss
the others
anymore
sinking
feelings
nothing more
more sore
or worn out from the throw of it
the bend and shortly following
the snap
snapping back into reality
back into myself
ego fully shattered
from receiving decent help
from my God
whichever one...
you believe or disbelieve
doesn't mean a thing to me
whole
completed
alone through the thick
and the thin of it
my backs
backed tight
and I'm starting to get
a hold of it
feeling the mold of it
moist clay
not so gentle and fragile
when it's dry
it's bound to break
so here's a thank
you
for all that you do
all you don't do
and whatever
we do together
never better
at least it
no longer aches
when we're apart
shattered heart no longer glaring
simply healing in it's staring
good night
slow and steady
good morning

are you ready for the day?

love turns to
want
turns to need
turns to,
"don't talk to me,
please."
hate burns
to dislike turns
to just might,
burns it's black light.

I lost you in the purple hues
of all things we used to do.
I  knew that what I felt was true,
you could see it in my eyes
and feel it in my touch,
I'm being honest
and I think it scares you.

disconnected
hot, tired
restless
sick of waiting

reconnecting
warm, tired
overwhelmed
still wanting to test this

swarming under the sun
we take turns
finding breaks
through the buzz

stuck together
seeking flowers
with skin soft as silk,
milk made of nectar

Bukowski says poetry is not for the faint of heart. I feel a small ache as I turn another of his pages. What have I been neglecting? Myself, the words, the reality? The reality which the words showed me. Too much for a growing girl, growing in swirls, rather than up, just crazy. Same road again, almost every morning, anxiety. Awkward again, sick and angry boy. He breaks silence with ****** functions and doesn't like to repeat himself.
Okay, Bukowski, you're right.
Poetry is not for the faint of heart.
he art, she art, it will tear you apart... if you let it.

fearful seconds
overbursting
minute to minute
times grind
separating signs
weeks turn to months
turn to
dreams
again last night
awakening sight
as I closed my eyes
awake in my mind
unsure of what I'd find
while pleasantly surprised
blue waves and black holes
stars that've shown color
stripping away the white
but still glowing
reflecting forgiveness