clawing between soft sheets I find your large hands
clasping through the gaps to find my softer inner parts

little do you know I am crumbling
though I give you the power to tear
what I forbid myself
to surrender

Create art with my ****** mess.
I know you never will

It is sad that you are gone
but I am waiting,
gluing my self back together,
trying to find the bits and pieces
I've shed in this process
of stabbing and
grabbing and itching newness
of youthful closeness
and the fusion of two.