let the bridges crumble into ash and dust.
let the stars fear our brilliance.
let the rest of the world drown out what lies beyond
the barricade.
lay down your arms -
i am almost yours.
you need only to surrender.

We were once tide -
An anticipated push and pull,
Rushes into the shores, and withdraws of the seas.
Written in squares of today and tomorrow,
The way, today is low
And tonight is high.

There were no uncertainties
Or questions – we always
Know, what to move
And when to go.
Stringed by orbits of
The Sun, The Moon, The Earth.

May it be Sunday but
The waves will praise only sand
Touching, like a morning greeting,
And a kiss of illusion – and these?
Were memories, of how you and I
Were only once tide.

Just ten minutes was enough
To build up the longing
That would last, and definitely hurt
While I wait for you to return

It was so innocent, so gentle, so pure
Just a simple lean and I knew for sure
I needed, wanted, yearned for more
I wanted to see what life had in store

You asked me a question, just a mischievous thing
But it came out and I started thinking
Turning and looking at your face (I nearly wanted to run)
Elbowed you gently, smiled and said 'this one'

Perhaps one day I would look back
And see that was when it had just begun
Maybe one day I will turn to you and say
You are the one

My Achilles heel is my heart, My body is made of strong, lean muscles.
Not a single broken bone.
Only a broken heart, 5 times over.
My love has never been matched, everything feels half-assed.

So drink that wine & smoke your 100's.
I'll sip this ***** & breathe the smoke that eludes you, maybe *** a drag or two.
Because you burned the bridge I was too scared to cross. It appears for good reason.

Out of all the words in the human languages, almost is the cruelest.
                                              I almost loved you.
                                              I almost won.
                                              I was almost there.


                                              I was almost *****.

When he snuck into the room like a wolf stalking its prey, my stomach didn’t almost tie in knots.
            It became a sailor’s masterpiece.

When he laid beside me as quiet as a stone, I wasn’t almost shaking.
            I was a leaf on the San Andreas Fault.

When his long, spidery fingers began trailing down my back, it didn’t almost feel like razors.
            He cut so deep the skin began to peel back and expose every    
            insecurity that I’ve hidden away between my vertebrae.

His fingers didn’t almost dig into my arm,
            they became shovels that dug a hole big enough for a casket.

Bruises didn’t almost blossom across my skin,
            I was a primrose bush in full bloom and he was the gardener.

When he coerced himself between my thighs, I didn’t almost scream.
            Years of ancestral abuse surged through my lungs and out my lips  
            into a battle cry.

When he tried to force his hand inside of me I didn’t almost feel spoiled.      
             I was a fruit rotting from the inside out, something that no one  
            would ever want.

And when my screams finally drove him off of me, I wasn’t almost okay.
             I was paralyzed with fear and disgust and shame.

Everything I’ve ever believed in slapped me in the face as I told myself:
                                      This is what I get for liking ***.
                                      I shouldn’t be so easy.
                                      I was asking for it.


                                      It was my fault.

I felt like a butterfly, beautiful but ruined by a man’s touch.
             Never to fly again.

But the truth is, a butterfly sheds scales throughout its lifetime,          
             regenerating its wings.

So when a man reaches for your wings in attempts to rip them off
             remember that you are not what he thinks you are.

Remember that it is never your fault.
             Not even almost.

All I need is a friend

Sometimes I will do it all.
The hard part.
I make plans
I put myself out there

And I cancel.

Because as trapped as I feel in this little room,
As horrible as I feel right now,
I am not ready to even look at the road less traveled.

I am not ready

And I will not take a leap

Not when I keep falling.

Every time I tried to write you a letter,
The only words I could muster up was full of hatred,
Questioning our idea of “forever”
And who fell harder.

They said not to ask anymore questions,
Because it'll make me look weak.
If you love someone,
To set him free.

But does that mean,
To let myself caged in?
4 months later,
I'm the one still suffering.
Swore to myself to never let anyone in.
Bruised and beat up,
You still haunt me.

"Done looking out for you"
"Did you ever?"
"You never noticed. All the more I should stop"