I
could
shower
myself
in
stardust
and
I
still
wouldn't
shine
as
bright
as
her*


                              B.S.

You make love to me all night and all morning,

With your beautiful body you make me shiver,

Moan and addicted to you.
I grasp onto the sheets like there's no tomorrow,

Like you're about to break me -
Like I'm feeling alive again, as I breathe desperately into your arms.

Don't go,

Don't go,

Stay.

I open my eyes,

Into this delusional moment of love,
You're gone.
Leaving behind you,
broken bottles and ***** half empty glasses,
Leaving traces of you without any promises.


My fingers are reaching for the ceiling,
As if I could almost reach your lips again,
As you move through me so easily,
I engulf myself into this memory,
That will soon fleet as I
Look through the window.
The sun is finally rising,
Saving me from my hopeless dream.
The clock is ticking,
My life is starting,

Without you into this new day,

Where I will let my soul shatter again,

Wishing for someone to stay.

I know you're not mine to have
I know you were never mine to have
But your eyes invite me
Your moves tempt me
When you glance, I wonder if you can hear my fervour
When you stand beside me I remind myself to breathe
my brain gives up on its rectitude
The closer you come the more my thoughts lure, I'm merry
my morality leaves as it blames my desire
I blame it on your alluring scent
you have to shut it, screams by brain
you're just human, consoles my heart
Again before I know it, I'm yet another covetous being

Give her chance. Meet her for coffee. You'll never know if you like the way her shampoo smells, or the way her nose crooks slightly to the left unless you put down $2.25 for a cup of burnt mouth and laughter so loud that the entire cafe wonders what kind of nerve you two have.  

You'll never know if you prefer her hands draped over your arms, or mine wrapped around your cheeks. While discussing spider legs and thigh gaps, the dead, the dying and the decay of classic rock, you might find that you like the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, but hate the way she inhales through her mouth and sighs with the flits of her eyelashes.

Maybe she's the Wednesday obituary. Maybe she's the Sunday paper with all the colored funnies your inner ten year old desires.

Maybe she's your glass of wine. Maybe she's your shot of whiskey. Or maybe she'll flow through your body like ice water. You've never been one for alcohol anyway.

Give her a chance. Meet her for coffee. Watch how her *** moves in her jeans. See the gleam of her little chiclet teeth when she smiles.

But don't think about me. Don't remember the way my hips curve. Don't think bow of my lips or the Cupid's arrow that once punched you so hard in the mouth that you smiled for an entire year of your life. Don't put that white paper cup to your lips and pretend that your tasting the way words dance around my tongue.

Go out and love someone. Love them for their mountains and valleys. Love them through their stormy nights and sunny mornings. Love them like you run. Full force, breathless, exhausted to the point of happiness. Chase after them until your lungs and legs give out. Just don't give up, and don't give in. And don't forget that I loved you first, but you loved me most. No matter where your feet or heart take you, that will never change.

the perfect ideal body image is no where near what I look like. I haven’t really met any guy yet who has referred to my body as beautiful, and you know that’s ok. even though dimples run around my thighs, even though I am marked with lines of strain and streams of growth, it’s ok. I am trying to convince myself that this body I am living in is a beautiful temple; one not to be hated or tortured. a temple to be carefully treated with love and grace. I am trying to convince myself that maybe he fell for what stood out the most. not my body or my outer skin of health, but me, myself, and I. what I stand for, who I care for, how I speak and approach, the way I laugh at a pointless joke that was told an hour before, how I choose pineapples over peaches, or maybe even how I choose simple small talk over a high energy activity. maybe to someone, my body is just perfect, because the other components mean so much more than what is bluntly visible.

                         (j.a.r.)

please close your eyes,
they look weary,
your spirit cries,
it feels dreary,

I'm with you now,
I've always been,
by heart is how,
and from within,

inhale my love,
exhale your pain,
just glimpse above,
I'm here again.

I travelled place to place
Looking for something I needed
From Texas to Europe
To New York and Mexico.
I could not find it
What is this thing
I wondered
That they call living?
I looked everywhere
Carefully planning my future
But then
One day I turned around.
I saw all of my past experiences behind me
The good times
The bad times
The nights I felt alive
And I simply said
*oh.