Today I was thinking,
of your lips kissing every part of me.                
Do you remember that?
The morning we just couldn't let go of each other.
Pure energy every times your lips would meet my skin.
You were going to lock up for the weekend.
Our goodbye of sorts.
It was the most passion and the closest thing to love I felt in so long.
The thought, that you would be sitting alone,
thinking of all the parts of me you kissed all weekend,
You would have that memory to keep you company,
made it that much more  enticing.
I actually said I love you, and was so glad you didn't hear.
We were far too early for anyone to say things like that.
I wouldn't want what was happening to change for anything in the world.

You gave me that watch,
I was so amazed that for whatever reason you had it,
You would think of me.
And that made me want you close so much more, you would never know.
He smashed it,  he took it and smashed it.
I screamed at him, I cried so hard and I couldn't tell you.
I still think about it and the pain is still there
the emptiness feeling in my stomach when I saw the pieces lying there.
He had grabbed me and gave me the watch he had given me.
Screamed at me to wear it instead, I threw it at him.
Told him I wanted nothing more than for him to stay away.
I told him not to ruin what I  wanted anymore.
He did I guess, or did I? Did you?

That night at my house,
you know the one,
Where his rage took a stab at us.
And we left,
That night I chose you.
I left all my belongings, my home and I chose a new chapter.
I chose you.
Remember when you took my hand in the cab and pulled me close?
The safest I have felt in years.
The closest to anyone as well.
I felt your heart and who you were and I hoped for time with you like this.

You stole my heart and made me believe again.
And now your hateful words and absence make me know.
How utterly silly of me to give my heart away,
how ridiculous to think I would ever mean anything.
I didn't love him you know.
I was falling for you.
I loved falling asleep in your arms.
I loved looking into your gorgeous eyes.
I hate how it ended.
And now, I wish it was just beginning again.
I have the memories, your gorgeous face and eyes I can still see.
I think I will hold on for a little while more.

Let me touch you.
Not where you think I'm going to,
but where my hands were meant to be.

Let me kiss you.
Not on your lips,
but on every other body part that's never been kissed.

Passion runs through my veins
as my nails run through your hair.
Scratching and pulling while our bodies breathe in unison.

*** isn't an option.
Make love to me like only you know how.
Make your name my lips favorite word.
Make my legs go numb from the pleasure
you've caused between them;
the pleasure you've caused between us.

Stopping isn't an option.
Let me explode. Physically and mentally.
Let your fingers be the reason my mind won't set you free.
Let's just… be, B.

i think my brain is faulty
dark thoughts swirl through my mind
like a demon, possessed
i want to hurt myself
scratch the thoughts from my skin
but they return on dark nights
sometimes when i least expect them
come crawling back
like a bad smell

i try to release the thoughts
through my finger tips
onto blank pages with biro
but they are lodged inside
for eternity
sometimes tears flow
and its like i can breath again
but then the emptiness follows
my words
my breathe
everything
stuck in my throat
like an incurable illness

please make them go away
please
i beg you

I own an ugly sweater
It has tatters and tears
Misshapen patterns
And holes everywhere

From the missing tag
That’s been savagely clawed and cut out
Why companies make them so scratchy
I have yet to find out.

Cheese grader sized holes
From where hungry moths attacked
For their personal enjoyment
Or a midnight snack.

A perfectly good sweater
And being prone to sharp corners
Don’t pair well together
Just ask my unraveling thread
That’s been caught onto edges
And hideously snagged.

It’s humorously sad
Go ahead, you can laugh
Your sweater is next
The moths are coming
I promise you that.

The bottom frays like a hippy
I would say it looks cool
But that style died in the seventies
Just wait, that that trend will recycle
I’m not in denial.

The fabric and material
What’s left of it
Is a delicate cashmere…

Alright fine, it’s a scratchy wool
Ancient, archaic, and feels like Velcro.

Sometimes leaves cling
So I look like a tree
The optimistic side of me
Just says nature loves me.

But I could do without the bees
Ohh so many stings…

The insides are bumpy
From being cleaned on high heat
Now my sweater suffers from dwarfism
It’s challenged vertically.

The wrists are stretched out
From being rolled up and down
Permanently smells like dirt or meat
Depending on my activity
Or what I had to eat.

Blackened mascara speckles the sleeve
From dramatic tears
Or being too lazy to grab a tissue
As if my sweater doesn’t have enough issues
I drag in my problems
My pendulum swinging emotions
If my sweater were human
I swear, it would leave me.

It’s been thrown on the floor
Tossed in the back of my car
Tied around my waist
And forgotten in stores
I always say sorry
I hope it forgives me.

From the sleeves that cradles sneezes
Hugs are completed
Sharing germs or sharing love
All becomes one experience.
You’re welcome.

The front like a canvas
A Jackson ******* painting
Ubiquitous splatters of coffee stains.

Missing sips that dripped off my lips
From being scolding hot
Or scarce concentration
But nine times out of ten
It’s my deficient attention.

Looking like it’s been through hell
And no denying it has.
Sure, I could donate this human sized rag
But they wouldn’t know the story behind
Each stain and frayed thread.

They would see the sweater as just ugly
Dismiss there was even a journey
They wouldn’t ask
The why’s or how’s it came to be.

This sweater is not just fabric
It’s a memory
An extension of me.
…
..
.
But seriously,
I should get this dry-cleaned
It’s disgusting.

But I love it.

12.5.11

Better than me
Is that what you are?
Better than me,
Is what you should be.

Your knees wobble, it’s all I see.
Your voice quivers, giving me shivers.
As I cringe,
I need you to be, better then me.

My walls are crumbled
As your words grow jumbled,
I stand there with you,
In front of the crowd.

Every noise
Seems so loud
As you face
My fear with grace.

WE are the dear
Caught in a headlight,
I feel the cold
Of the lonesome night.

I feel the sweat drip
Down my face,
I feel a disgrace
As I quicken my pace.

But i need you to see
You are better than me.

___________________­____


This is inspired by the bravery that it takes to stand infront of a crowd and show something you have created. It highlights that public speaking, at least infront of highschoolers, is a big fear and weakness of mine. It also highlights the empathy and solidarity I feel with people who feel the same way as I do when they stand up there, next to that microphone.