Desire has its fingers in every single fold of my being.
Yearning for the relief of connection
that brings me down to my knees
in front of my own femininity; the temple of my womanhood.

War is over.
The men can come home to their wives.
Who held their breath,
counting the hours like prayers
awaiting their arrival.

I want a love I’ve waited lifetimes for.
A love that stretches thick among the stars.
I want to touch every crooked fold in your being
imprint a sliver of my light on your darkness.
You hold your heater in my defense.
ready to black the sky on those who attempt to dim my light.

I’m built to consume, to ravage.
It’s in my destiny to be reborn by something delicate as a kiss.
Shall I always want more?
Like the kidnapping of my heart

As if, it was never mine.

I am an assertive being.
destructive.
mortal.
Extremely impulsive with frenzied thoughts.
I am a woman with affection that only exists
inside of my bones.
lethal.
This affection confused as violence.
frenetic.
I do not express it with lip stains on envelopes or heart shaped doodles on letters.
It’s a demonstration of my eyes piercing into yours.
Willingly suffocating in the thought of you.
Repeatedly carving your existence in my head.
This planet will come for me and continue to spin
but here he is, a mosaic of my memory.
A love that tears me to shreds.
strips me bare.
I am in my purest form when I’m with you.

There’s enough language inside of my mouth to be understood.
I unhinge my jaw
my tongue rolls out
you can see the words sewn into my muscular tissue.
sentences lodged deep into my pharynx.
I clean my act, flash my cheekbones.
So there’s enough language inside of my body
to create the thought in your mind that
“I’m okay.”
Pain masked in articulation.
The lack to find all the points in communication.
The curse of comprehension.
All while sitting with what doesn’t exist outside of the novel continuously writing in my head.
There’s enough language inside of the world
to prove that no word can describe
my intelligence of my own being;
with coexisting with people who become illiterate
to the dictations of my mind.

By the time earth is finished making it’s.   rounds
on all sides of the sun
my brain has already calculated twice a billion ways to stretch myself thin between
the moon and the stars.
I’ll settle for the ambivalence that links
my emotions and the atmosphere;
to submit to the gravity of what the world
could be.
All while knowing who I should be,
I float higher and higher in the opposite direction .
So the empyrean can cradle my chaos,
quietly without judgement.
The only reason I live is for the credible fact
we will all return back into stardust
and be spread out equally between all corners of the sky.

a candle dances and burns in a distant window
while the city beams as if the night
never needed any light.
As if the flame screams to be what illuminates
the crossroads and windows.
Bound to its wick.
A candle who wants to be a star, to join the sky all eyes find peace in.
Longing to be more but still fulfilling
it’s sad purpose.
Tears of wax, only full of potential in the dark.
The city hums an artificial tune,
the candles wails the song of your essence.
Yearning to explode in the sky though
condemned to glow in isolation.
a candle dances and burns in a distant window
to give all eyes a warm welcome.
while the city beams as if the night never needed any light.
Dreams of ignition without restraint.
Still only wax and wick.
Destined to soften, burn, melt.
Still it shows off its light.
Not because it’s seen.
But because it cannot help but glow.

There’s words inside of me not just my head.
They curl like smoke behind my ribs.
Yearning to be named.
Reluctant to cathartic practices.
Burnt out due to unraveling each letter
that goes through your ear and out the other
I feel the sadness in my throat
the disgust in my mouth
the anger in my head
the fear that crowds my chest.
don’t worry yourself with what I can’t speak out loud.
Silence is loud, when it’s full.
Such as my days, flooded and useless.
I hope it will all make sense
E-l-u-c-i-d-a-t-e.
I nurture the words that are only felt in my bones.
I will never know how to translate them into a sound only you can feel.

I’m constantly trying to do the impossible
grab the incredible.
express the inexplainable.
stop the inevitable.
I am not a pioneer of my own future.
I’m a prisoner of my past, look at
how the shackles dangle from my feet,
how they cuff my hands like dainty bracelets.
I refuse to care for the pragmatic whole of the world.
When I step on freedom it will be everything
I want it to be.
The flowers will grow upside down
The sky will be a rare shade of blue.
We’ll share hands and explore the world
created by the love in our hearts.
Freedom will be something I can hug
I will not drown in the pool of my own desires
The world can’t intervene now.
I can love you so freely without being
killed by my own limerence.