We ******-

It was my first time,
but... it surely wasn't your first time.
Although it was your first time with me
and it wasn't exactly love making
because though we told each other
"I love you"
I still wasn't sure exactly how to make it,
just how to say it.
You were my first time,
saying I love you and I think that was harder,
than actually ******* you.
And as a poet, these details become stanzas
for others ears to hang onto like a leech,
******* out every last emotion and turning
into a self-sacrifice of one's own interpretation.

You make it soooo easy,
but at the same time you make it so ******* hard.
like the way at times, I can't find the words to rhyme
so I just make these words I speak to you run-on sentences
that never exactly end, just keep going
until i find some other **** to say to you to make you smile,
or **** you off, because i'm actually really good at that
in fact, i love the way you call me out on my *******.
The way I want to dye my hair crazy ******* colors,
but you turn up your nose and tell me no I shouldn't,
which I admire because I would probably regret it.

You're not afraid to tell me how you feel
you don't fear I will flip out or cry or cuss you out,
and I love you for that.
because for so long i've had people
walk around me like I was at the edge of insanity,
waiting until i was pushed to my imminent death.
But baby, you just don't care
because you are on that edge with me
swinging your feet along the side,
lifting your head back and screaming
"man, what a ******* ride."

We made love.
and i'm not sure if we really did,
but ******* it felt like it
because right then
your body was the only one
I ever wanted, ever again.
I'm not sure if that's ******* insane
because I don't believe in forever
and I'm not sure I believe in happily ever after.
But ******* baby, you took the pen from  my hand
and wrote me a novel with your lips across my skin
and made me forget about every single person,
who ripped open my chest, tore my heart out at the seems
and took a piece of me with them.
The story you wrote hasn't ended,
it's still being written
and like a chose your own adventure novel,
i'm not sure where this is gonna go..
or if what I say will send me down a snake hole
poisoning my mind with negativity
or have me fighting off the evil ninjas
out to control my thought process
but ****, i'm willing to risk it
because although i'm not sure where will this will take me,
i'm along for the ride and you have me hooked
with every paragraph and run-on sentence
you trace across my skin.
and like the wise words of Miles Hodges,
"your head was great baby but your mind,
your mind was the night before a revolution."

You were my first,
love, ****, and then love again
and you taught me things
I never thought my mind had the capability of processing.
Yeah, I still hate your ******* ex girl-friends
and your pictures together make my stomach curl,
and if I ever see her out in public that *****...
it doesn't matter,
because I am yours and you are mine
and I am prettier than she is anyways...
****, it doesn't matter
because nothing matters when I am with you
and it's kind of ****** up, in the best way.

I have never felt the loneliness that I do without you,
and I'd like to think that means something special.
You make me write happy poems..
I haven't written a happy poem since I was 9
and I'd like to think that means something special.
I may not be able to dye my hair funky colors,
or pierce my eyebrow
but **** that's just my manic depression talking anyways,
and it's funny because
no matter how much things around me change
or how much I count the days until I fade away.
There's one thing in my mind that stays
and that's the way I feel about you...

We ******-
and it wasn't cute
or tragic like the movies make it out to be.
It was you, and it was me-
and for the first time I felt safe...
No flashbacks or panic attacks,
just your eyes, a little worried
and that's when I kinda knew
I made the right choice
loving you.