Mind hijacked,
body stolen
by your touch on my hips,
on my lips,
bruised and swollen.
Searching for secrets
in the swell of my thigh
on these twisted damp sheets
in this room where we lie.

our bodies entangled like the roots of a tree, hidden.
and as the tree grows, so does my ambivalence.
my neurosis of love, lust, hate, disgust.
and it keeps on raining, like the rain i would awaken to when i was 5 years old,
--------------------------
and my parents would tap me at 2 am, "wake up sweetie, it's pouring".
my mother, my father, together.
waiting on the porch, with a chocolate cigar.
just waiting, for me, for the rain, for time to stop.

these things are the same because they are both everlasting.

Not at all confident in where I stand
Not at all full of any fully formed ideas on the matter at hand
I am unsure
That I am
Who I think I am
That I am
What my hands create by their actions
If I am forming my own dissatisfaction
I
Get lost
In the
Mazelike craters and crannies of my wandering and cynical mind
As it fluctuates to attempt to avoid the pattern of divine
Revelation that just might bring my doubt, wandering, and day to a point of
Disintegration,  I suppose this is a twisted and muddled form of self alienation
Maybe. . . Or am I mistaken?

Brand it,
Bandit.
Livin' the dream,
curse.

Sulking
in the silence
of your sorrows.

Neck deep
in worry waves.
&
I'm drowning, in the
shallow waters of my own.

We break each day,
in attempt to find,
that of our soul,
we have left behind.

I'll *******,
If you want.
Cause I want it
Just as bad as you do.
But I also want to hear the rustle of the sheets
When you turn over in the middle of the night.
I want to feel your hot breath on my neck.
I want the stubble on your chin to graze my cheek
As you kiss me gently on the forehead.
And when I whisper "goodnight," you don't have to reply.
Just nudge me with your knee
Or poke me with your elbow.

I stood in the pouring rain—
Marveled at its beauty,
And I thought of all the times
I cursed it and called it ugly.

I sat in an empty room—
Cursed her and called her ugly,
And I thought of all the times
I marveled at her beauty.