to my darling who feels she's not:
our separation is mere illusion.
truly, your pain strikes me as i write this;
your sensations of abandonment,
and the decisiveness they have caused,
bleed from my skin into the fibers of my clothes.
i am no longer clean.
i do not feel pure.

to my severed arm and shortened tendons:
destruction is merely another side of life.
out of disappearance comes all things-
without space, there would be nothing to contain us,
nothing to allow and enfold our beings' spirits,
and they would sputter and cease like my love's flame.
i am no longer yours.
i do not feel full.

to the farthest star that my eyes can see:
your light reaches me- i glimpse you!
in the perceived emptiness between us
there is no distance to be found;
around us exists the infinite potential for
further connection and deeper growth in closeness.
i am no longer alone.
i do not feel sorrow.

You've never felt so alone in your life.
Before, you know.. There were somewhat plausable reasons -  excuses for feeling so alone..
Like not having anyone to share your life with.
But when you do find someone, you expect at least some of the pain to subside or to get easier to deal with.

What you don't expect is for the pain to get worse, to increase and eat you on the inside.

But it does.

And then he doesn't even notice that you've stopped breathing.

He doesn't see that you've gone colour blind.
That you don't see the chocolate brown of his eyes
and instead of seeing the oceans that once lay in yours you see dark gray ash laying in pools filling the windows that should lead to your soul.

He still sees the ocean when he looks into your eyes, and that's what scares you.
You wonder if he's drowning.
You wonder if its too late.


You wonder if you lost yourself because he stopped searching for you.

It's been a month
an entire month of doing abolutely nothing.
30 days and not once have I attempted to describe the texture of your hands on my skin or the sound of your voice.

The dark color of your eyes or the freedom that rests in the palms of your hands.
The feeling of being enfolded while being completely free in your arms.
The magic that lies at the end of your fingertips.

The sledgehammer rhythm of your heart and the peace it instills in mine.
the beauty of your smile and the gentle tone to your laugh.
Your lips warm and soft - a healing ritual when they meet mine.

All these things I have failed to describe, to write down - afraid to allow them to creep to the front of my mind and take over. Because that's what thoughts of you do - invade my mind and nestle into every nook and cranny of my ocean deep thoughts and troubles.

And now, I miss you.

I like being noticed.. You know.
I like being appreciated. But I like being noticed for the small things.

Appreciated would be the times you tell me I am beautiful.
Noticed would be if you realised I never believe you.

Appreciated would be the fact that I have succulent hips and
noticed would be the fact that sometimes those hips have bones, that they liked to be grasped.
That occasionally you should leave bruises - because I like reminders of where your hands have been.

Appreciated would be that I have soft skin.
Noticed would be that I like to be kissed there - on my skin - on any visible piece.  

Maybe one day you'll notice..
I'll never stop hoping.

You're like the heat of a thousand suns and although I am burnt, chapped and faded I choose to remain in the dessert.

You tried to take my hand.
Although I yearned for your touch - I had to push you away.
I had to let you know somehow that though I had given you another chance, I hadn't completely forgiven you yet.

And it hurt me more than you did, for us to be distant.
My hands felt empty.
My lips felt dry and cracked - though I knew they weren't - as if they needed yours.
My body felt as if I was covered in burn wounds, as if your body was the healing balm I needed.
But couldn't get.

Put your hand on my thigh,
trail patterns on the surface.
Look me in the eyes,
make every second worth it.

Trail kisses up my neck,
& across my jawline.
Don't stop, not ever,
it seems as though we're frozen in time.

Put your hands on my waist,
the time is long gone for an innocent embrace.
Breathe me in,
become intoxicated at my scent,
graze your teeth against my throat,
it is with your lips that you tempt.

Run your hands down my back,
stop at my hips - pull me close.
Rub your nose against mine,
those lips,
your poison -
give me another dose.

After years of blissful torture,
press
your lips against mine.
Slow at first
and then
like we're running out of time.
Draw me even closer,
steal the air from my lungs -
kiss me harder,
bite my tongue.

Drive me crazy, blow my mind..
When we release, I know..
Its only to prepare for next time.