I don't know if
I'm ready to fall in love with
the boy who makes sunshine
on rainy days, and is the best part
of the great days.
Whose hugs feel like safety, and
kisses like heaven.
That's not to say he's innocent,
because there's no hell like the
burn I feel when he's between
my legs, and his hips are on mine.
In the grey sky dawn of a Tuesday,
the one patch of sunlight
between my shuttered window
hits the roses perched by my
bedside, and I wonder if
the boy made of stardust, and
chocolate, and soft touches
should be mine,
because I'm falling apart,
and coming back together
trying not to love him too.