What are we
Where do we stand
Is there a we?
Or is it just you, is it just me
Living symbiotically.

Everything I touch,
Feels like a memory,
Of when you touched me,

Can I ask why you're still here,
Cluttering my mind,
Dominating my thoughts,
And making my body ache with longing,

Touch me,
Or walk away,

The choice is yours,

But I have no choice,

You have burrowed yourself under my skin,
And I can't find a knife sharp enough to,
Dig,
You,
Out.

Inana Shlash

How I wish I knew you
I would have melted
And oozed into
Your shoes
lingering many hours
Before you finally
Took a shower

I would have been a blanket
Embracing your back
Nuzzling against the nape
Of your neck
Until you wandered away
To a cool breeze
On the deck

If the gods would have
Smiled on me
I could have been
A billion water droplets
Easing into the hundreds
Of thousands of pores
In your silken skin

Alas
Our missile
Blew you away
And I don't know what to say

 Sean Hunt  
Windermere, December 6 2015

Please
Tattoo the words
I am not good enough
Into my skin
So I will never trick myself
Into thinking otherwise
Because when I think perhaps
I am
My pride falls out of my chest
And drags on the ground
Leaving behind each broken piece
That I'll never be able to find
To put myself
Back together
So please
Save me the embarrassment
Carve the words into my skin yourself
So I won't have to

His warm smile kisses my deepest pain
While I watched my own sadness **** the sunset in his eyes
The monsters in my head
Are the same monsters who swallowed his happiness
Our fire was no longer beautiful, but dim
It eventually burnt out,
and turned everything darker than
the night
He stopped telling me I was lovely;
And I stopped feeling safe in his embrace
My desire to be adored
Left us lost and broken
...

It's ironic really
That I can never write my feelings down, until I'm crying so hard I can't see the paper and my hand trembles worse than my fathers body during withdrawals
After many years of wasted water I finally realized taking three showers a day wouldn't wash this depression from my skin. They say things will get better with time but I think the arms on my clock have Alzheimer's because they keep moving backwards and it seems to be a perfect representation of my life. I once found out that my boyfriend watched **** and I forgave him but I didn't realize every time a movie was on I would imagine his eyes glued to the actresses naked body....  I wanted to be that naked body. It's insane what insecurities can do to a person. I think my father failed to tell me I was beautiful because I didn't warm his soul like the ******* did but I swear I could have if I had the chance. But my chances left at the same time he did and lately I've concluded that I need to stop blaming myself for him leaving. I need to stop blaming myself for not being that naked body in the pictures. I've realized that no amount of warmth and comfort can stop me from crying tears that I should have cried years ago and opening umbrellas inside isn't going to shield me from the amount of rain this world brings. Dream catchers won't catch my bad dreams anymore-I'm just too old. Or maybe I've never been old enough. I lost my innocence at the age of 5 when my mother told me my father was in jail. I lost it again at age 15 when I didn't object to a grown man stripping me of my dignity and virginity, because I wanted to be a beautiful naked body. And now I am that naked body, wasting water by taking 3 showers a day because I need to wash this depression off my skin, I've got to get it out of my skin.