I live to see you look at me like I'm the most beautiful creature you've ever laid eyes on.
You brush my hair behind my ear gently and run your fingers along my cheek.
"You have the most beautiful ears.
Ears are such a strange thing to love about a person, but I do love them.
I love your ears. Little, delicate pixie ears.
My tiny manic pixie dream girl."
I live to hear that I'm yours.
I live to hear you say anything really

Again I attempt patience
Until home again we go
The unknown is all that awaits us
in Loretto other than snow

You're a different place.
It's understanding.
It's home.
It's pure bliss.

These places feel strange.
They smell
Wrong.
I dare not taste them.
I want my home back:
The familiar smell
Arms which feel like comfort
A face which looks at mine and sees me
Not my skin or my hair or my eyes
But me:
My soul.
I want to come home.
When can I come home?

I want you.
I do.
I want to sleep next to you.
I want to have morning coffee with you.
I want to tell you about the stupid things that happen during my day.
I want to cook dinner with you.
I want to shower the day off with you and stroke your hair as you relax before bed.
I want to talk deep into the night with my cheek resting in the supple skin where your neck meets your shoulder.
I want to kiss your bearded jaw line and fall asleep nestled against you; fit around you
where I belong.

I surrender.
I'm done fighting it.
I'm done attempting to reason with it.
I'm done attempting to figure out how to manipulate the situation to get anything new or different.
I'm done stressing about how to be
or how to change it.
I'm done worrying about whether or not it's okay.
I love you.
That's it. That's all.
I'm letting go and trusting you with that.
For better or for worse.

Snow falls outside
the library lights go out as we walk out into it

study dates are a bit of an oxymoron aren’t they?
somehow simultaneously less date than study
less study than date

they’re the sort of thing
that leave you with more questions than answers
from calculus to what exactly was meant

we walk to my dorm
under lamp posts
and the ever present snow

a hug good-bye,
“goodnight,”
and he walks away

the snow falls more rapidly
we both turn back as if waiting

Have you ever been Cinderella at the ball?
Have you ever stood there so completely in awe of the impossible wonderful you're experiencing?
Have you ever had to leave the ball so no one sees your riches turn to rags
Return to the drudgery of a reality full of tyrants and sycophants;
Thinking that you'll be okay going back to being just you after the clock strikes midnight?
How do you go back?
How do you ever taste anything the same again?
How do you learn to not ache for that kind of love; that kind of beauty?
How do you go back to living as a scullery maid?
How do you go back to the cold hearth alone?
Do you tell yourself you never deserved it?
Do you tell yourself it wasn't real?
Do you tell yourself the prince never cared?
Do you just sit alone by your hearth, covered in the day's cinders and hope beyond hope that it wasn't all in your head?

Calm.
There's a resounding calm over me.
The day was long.
You're not here.
But that's not to say you won't be again.
This hot toddy is perfection.
The only thing that could make it better is your company.
I miss you, but not painfully today.
Today I miss you comfortably;
In a way that says I'm adjusting to whatever this is.

I feel bound.
*******.
Caged.
This lack of action
Lack of knowing
Sitting tight
Waiting for you to return to me
Ties me in knots.
Turns me inside out.
Fills me with fury and fear and upset.
And need.

I'm drinking good coffee and eating good foods and watching fires burn low and gazing at crisp, clear, sparkly night skies.

And you aren't!

I'm reading books. I'm watching films. I'm listening to new music. I'm learning new things. I'm meeting new people and growing, growing, growing.

And you're not!

I'm creating art works and planning and writing and going new places and exploring new things. I am walking up city side walks and down country roads and hiking up old trails and seeing ruins.

And you are not.

I wish you were here with me; doing these things.

**** you. You aren't.

If people were to be created in pairs
or halves,
he is my other.
He is complimentary.
Designed for me.
Fit for me.
We are a matched set.
He is my kind.
And I am his.

being loyal is pie
being good is cake
one never wants to lie
when love may be at stake

I'm the kind of girl
who doesn't need much
to stick around for awhile

I'm the kind of girl
who would simply be there
every night if you'd let me

I'm the kind of girl
who doesn't mind
that you get busy sometimes

I'm the kind of girl
who sometimes only
wants to be an extra pillow in your bed

Love of Wisdom
You don’t seem so wise to me
You spend all day questioning
Searching

I’ve noticed this double standard
you don’t like to be searched
you don’t like to be questioned
you object to my endless curiosity

I’m curious
I’m headstrong
I speak my mind
I act

You told me not to try to change you
I ask that you extend me the same courtesy

" I just felt the need to tell you
you're beautiful."
Why did you feel that need?
Do I strike you as someone who doesn't know,
who isn't told often,
who is looking for your attention?
Did you need to force me to pay attention to your energy?
Did I invite your attention by entering your visual space?
Was I asking for it?

"Your boyfriend,
you probably have one of those,
is a very lucky man.
You're gorgeous."
Is that so?
I don't have one.
Haven't in years.
Why didn't you ask my name
my occupation
my dreams?

"You're very attractive.
You probably have a great man in your life."
I don't.
No man.
Great or otherwise.
If I were ugly would I be less deserving of great?
What would you say makes a great man?
How do you know I belong with one?

"You're very lucky to be here with her.
She's the cutest girl in the room."
I am not his property.
You sound like you're offering a compliment on his dog.
I am not a dog or a thing to be complimented.
Did he groom me this way?
Have you even heard me speak?

I am not the summation of my experiences with men.
I am not the totality of my beauty or outward traits.
I am not property
I am not a token
I am not a symbol of worth.

I am a woman
with a voice
talents
feelings
wants
needs

I am a full life.
I am a woman.

You're in or you're out.
Make the choice.
Decide.
I'm here, with an open heart,
willing to set aside my baggage and travel this unexplored road unburdened by my past.
I'd love for you to join me.

I feel.
It’s so new.
So acutely painful.
When had I forgotten how to feel?
Did I get so caught up in being loved,
that I forgot how?
I remember.
You force me to remember.
I’m tangled in knots.
I’m edgy.
I’m confused.
I’m freaked.
Are you?

every time
you ask the same questions
sometimes twice

                     Why on earth are you here with me?
                     You look at me like you genuinely care.
                     Why?

my answers are mangled messes
there's no absolute truth
only many components of why

tonight I am quiet
I contemplate how to say
exactly what I mean for once
  
                            I thought you were adorable, and interesting
                            at that ridiculous icebreaker the very first day.        
                            I do care. You're a genuinely good guy.
                          
Maybe eventually
I'll be able to finish what I mean.
Maybe someday I'll answer:

                            **You're everything I've ever waited for...

I have days where I laugh for no reason;
absolutely everything amuses me to no end.

I have days where nothing makes me happy;
not hugs, not food, not running, not you.

I have days where everyone is irritating;
I try to tell people. They irritate me too.

I laugh too much. At all the wrong times.
I’m moody. I’m a pain in the ***. I'm going to hurt you.

I have so much to give.
So much to offer.
And no where to put it
It's this constant feeling
Like I know what I am, what I want, what I need
and there's nothing to do with it right now.
I'm waiting to stumble upon someone with the same needs and wants
and massive soul with too much to give.
I'm waiting on someone to wake up and live life as much as I do;
to just have this huge energy that wants to play and mingle with my massive soul and huge energy.
Do you reach a time where people suddenly love life?
Do people start to feel more alive
or do they stay mostly dead
I don't want to feel dead.
My vulnerable open loud insides need people with the same guts.
I need people who feel familiar;
people who love loudly and often.

necessity drags me away
from our warm bed
where I'd rather stay
the familiar ache stirs
deep in my chest
missing you, the moment we part

We toss and turn in separate beds
Fighting separate battles
with separate packs of demons.
I'll fight yours if you fight mine
I'll toss when you toss and turn when you turn.
You're right in saying I'd try to take care of you if you let me.
I absolutely would.
I'd remake the world to make you okay.

gentle hands and kisses wake me
my own brand of heroine
his face next to mine
holds me closely

it’s not healthy for me
or so i’m told
I thought I swore this off
a long long time ago

yet here he is
in my bed, in my arms
I’m unable to say what’s healthy
I’m an addict

I look it, don’t I?
under-slept with smudged make-up
too thin
un-gorgeous despite his words

I’m an addict
keen for another fix
I’m a ramshackle building
waiting to fall in on itself again

You're a bundle of contradictions
You're gorgeously insecure.
You're an arrogant disaster.
I want you all the more for it.

I'm looking down
I'm standing on the edge
the water is warm and waiting.

I don't dive in
that's what's sensible
but I can't do it

I just stand on the edge of the diving board
calm and collected in appearance
petrified

I don't want to dive
I don't want to feel the fall
I don't want to hit the surface

the water no longer seems inviting
though I'm shivering in the cold air
I'm a young girl again:

afraid to get in the water
afraid to feel its warmth
afraid to be comfortable

I turn and walk away.

Don't really know when it's okay to talk to you
Is it okay to talk to you?
You only answer at certain times
Maybe you're just busy
Maybe you have nothing to talk about
I want to talk to you about everything though.
I want to tell you about my day
About my classes
My lack of art this week
My professors
My classmates
My job
Veronica's dog.
I feel like I would be a bother if I did that.
So I try to say nothing.

need to get out

want to crawl out

I don't know how

to get out of me

old habits die hard
isn’t this where she always runs
straight into the arms of a man

“little miss independent” she acts
in a way maybe she is...
&& they all think they’re using her

each one serves a purpose
a place for her to hide
somewhere to weather the storm

they’re just a quick escape
shelter from the empty
a way to get away from the shambles

each one ends a bit differently
takes a little more out of her
**each shambles paves the way for the next

Deliriously happy.
"You look like you won something;
Some sort of prize."

I did.

I won the only prize I've ever given a **** about:

A place in your life.

I just trust you
My gut says it's okay
This all feels....
genuinely okay

I'm still in a state of shock
you're such a conundrum
all at once gentlemanly and crass
lovely and dangerous

Everything you do
leaves me in a state of amazement
You're everything I've ever looked for
trite I know

Your reputation
should leave me terrified
quaking in my shearling boots
It doesn't

You calm me down
Leave me bubbly like champagne
Your body curled around mine
Feels safe

You feel like safety

I'm afraid...
                of being alone in the dark
                of roller coasters
                of relinquishing control
                of hurricanes                and tornadoes
                of letting you love me

I don't want...
                    to go to the race/game/match
                    to eat here
                    to play this game
                    to have ***                just yet
                    to get hurt again

I need you...
                  to take me somewhere
                  to clean this up
                  to talk to me
                  to show me                 and tell me


                  **now

There's a sweet spot
between the crazy passion of a newly begun fire
and the embers of a fire which someone has tried to extinguish.
During that nice slow burn there is bliss to be found.
There is beauty and warmth.
As long as you keep feeding it and respecting it, it won't go away.
You can keep that fire nice and controlled
warm for you for a lifetime.
Or you can douse it with cold water, hope it goes out,
try to pretend you never had a fire to begin with;
convince yourself that you were going to get burned if you kept enjoying its warmth.

I'd never tell you this
...
I'd never tell anyone this
...
here, in the dark of night
I miss you.
It's not that I haven't replaced you
and replaced you
over and over again

I shiver
...
I can't stop
...
Perhaps it's the time of year; the cold
You were the only love I'd ever had around the holidays
Perhaps it's just the stability I missed; strong arms
You were always my rock
Perhaps it's how my parents loved you; too much really
You were so, so good to me


Maybe I'm just lonely.

You didn't say, "Come here and stop being so scornful, you stubborn little woman."

So I didn't say, "Why should I?"

And You didn't say, "Because I love you."

And I didn't put aside my fears and doubts to bury myself in your arms and say, "I know."

And You never held me while I cried happy tears of relief as I added, "I love you too."

"don't ever worry
             when we're back at school"
you said
              "you know how I feel
               about you"

of course I do.
  I know what
                      you said
    I remember
    **every word

I adore being called out.*
Honestly.
Nothing turns me on more
than a man who calls me on what I’m up to.
The man who sees every little awful,
awkward detail in me,
and turns them against me.
I adore the thrill*
of being gamed.
I enjoy having to work,
and making him work.
I love it.
I thrive on it.
*I live for it.

I'm so ******* cold.
Cold outside.
Cold inside.
Literally.
Metaphorically.
Cold.
My nose runs.
I quiver.
My soul aches.
I hunch up.
Try to hide under covers.
Summer is over.
Winters do not suit me.

Today I am sadness
Today the world is too much
I am angst
I am worry
I am holding back tears
Today I am unrequited
Today I am longing
I am concern
I am need
I am just going through the motions
Today I am confused
Today I am a headache
I am a heartache
I am weighed upon