All my life I've been lectured to stay away from the dangerous things in life.
Stray animals, unknown substances, drugs, alcohol, and the things in between.
But no one ever warned me about the dangers of falling in love.
The way it resembles all the listed dangers.
Oh how love can wound my heart as if it has clawed it bit by bit.
Oh how love is so world known yet so strange and confusing.
Oh how love takes me to the highest clouds with addiction being the aftermath.
Oh how love can make me fumble, release my secrets, and bring me a pounding ache the morning after.
But no one ever warned me about the dangers of falling in love.
Maybe because love in all reality is far worse than any spiked drink.
Worse than a pill that drives me insane.
Worse than being mauled by sharp teeth and claws.
Love is more of a carcinogen.
Flowing through my bloodstream, unwanted, hurtful.
A substance I can't remove, despite the many attempts.
Love is far too dangerous for one to speak of.
Love is something so dangerous we refuse to accept it as an actual threat.

My lips have never known the taste of yours.
My nails have never scraped down your chest.
My legs haven’t wrapped around your waist.
No my body has never had the pleasure of being pleasured by you.

You haven’t slipped off my dress to caress.
You haven’t pulled my hair just to kiss down my neck.
You haven’t ****** me until I’m left screaming.
No your body doesn’t know the heat of mine.

But here we are covered with guilt,
Wearing that scarlet letter for this emotional affair.

© 2013-2014 Peach

He used to say
“Give me your love”

“Define love”
Was always my reply

“It’s your body and soul baby, being mine”
He always assumed it was an answer I should know

As night tumbled endlessly
Across a starless sky
I tumbled around
On a bed of pale sheets
Searching for a rhythm
I’d feel deep within my essence

I fell into the moment of
Hands gliding
Hips colliding
Lips seeking
I found empty satisfaction a few times
Somewhere between midnight and 3 AM

I shared my body
But hid my soul
As I dressed
I felt his caress once more
“How about one for the road?” he suggested
As his lips trailed down my neck

No amount
Of body heat
That we generated
Could ever
Warm
My shivering soul

© 2013-2014 Peach

Sometimes
it all seems so real
     Like this reality weighs heavily on my chest and I can’t breathe.
my stomach jumps and sends this cold fire throughout my body and I feel it.

I feel the world boiling in my consciousness and there’s no release that could possibly be worthy of this feeling.
Then I tell myself I'm just being dramatic and I tamp that feeling down with my fear and sadness and a yearning for eventualities.
Sometimes I’m not sure what I mean.
Sometimes I make stuff up.
But really I’m just an awkward almost-twenty year old who wants her life to be something.
Extraordinary
But.so.is.everyone.else.
And isn’t that right?
Isn’t that rich?
That we are all one.
A vast ocean of “ones”.
I’m really just a wave.
And it is alright to be a wave.
Because waves, they move.
It’s alright to be dramatic though. Why not?
I have this mind that wants out and I keep suppressing it. At least I’m pretty sure I do. Maybe I don’t. Maybe it is only on occasion that I tell it to shut up because it all is just too much.
That’s probably it.
Who am I really?
I guess I could list all of my traits and that could be who I am. Or what I have accomplished in life, and presto, you have…me.
Then there’s this consciousness that sits inside this flesh and controls it. That could be who I am. But that consciousness is just the acts it has achieved and the traits it has portrayed, is it not?
So I guess what I’m saying is.
The I that is me has not achieved satisfactory on my scale of living by which I measure my worth.

Not yet anyway