I have shed layers underneath layers of hiding
To give you my undoing.
I have saved myself for you to witness this.
I have been waiting to bare my truths, no more than once,
But just for you.
I have been saving my yes… for you.
And locking away my vulnerable for the man who would not destroy me in it.
It is your lips, your hands, and your body letting down its bullet proof.
There are no walls here,
No mountains to separate my hands
From your back, your lips, your chest,
All skin, on skin, on skin.
I have been building on my freedom,
And I am here now
Ready now… to revel in it,
With you.
Only you.
Always you.
I trust you not to ruin me,
But do not be scared to break me… down in this room,
Break down in this room
Let go inside me,
Fall slowly beside me.
I am no judge
There are no rules.
My body was crafted with you in mind,
Your hands were skilled in prelude to my pleasure.
There is no stopping here,
No moving too fast,
No going to slow.
I am meant for you, now.
You are safe in me.
Say the word,
Say it,
We can die a million times together here in this room.


-Indigo Morrison

There is beauty in the way she unravels herself to me.
How she plucks on the strings of her well-worn corset of flesh,
With fingers skimming over the buttons and hooks that made her once distant to me.
Stripping the clothes of Herself until she stands naked as a baby.
Placing her Trust in the cradle of my arms and her Heart in my hands.

There is beauty on how she self-destructs infront of me.
The prismatic glass pieces of her soul scattered like fallen snow
As I hammered through it with an ice pick of words, lies and promises to be kept.
Her tears ****** dry as the last falls down like a diamond discarded.

What is bare skin
Compared to
The beauty of a bare soul?

I need inspiration.
I need a new muse.
Not the kind that impresses
But rather undresses
And leaves you with the essence
Of a poet, raw.
Exposed but not defenseless.
I'll be open,
You're all welcome.
Come in,
Kick off your shoes,
Get comfortable.
For maybe if I let you see,
I will have some new vision
Of myself and who to be.
Maybe your eyes will tell me-
When I drop my guard down
-What I really look like
From the vision of
An unfamiliar gaze.
It's possible I'll see horror
Or maybe some pain
In the eyes of the many
That witness me plain.
I'm sorry to sound dramatic,
But this is what I must have.
To feel what you feel
When your eyes grasp my spirit.
I must know.
I simply need inspiration.

You lie down in bed,
Feeling the presence of the dead,
They moan and groan,
Their fingers as cold as stone
clawing at your bare skin.

They beg for your soul,
As they now have no other after life goal,
They wish to be you,
Able to chew and to put on a new pair of shoes,
Oh so lucky you are to be alive.

They tug at your hair,
and at all the cloths you wear,
They all have grim faces,
Each from different places,
All dead,
At least that is what they said.

They want to live,
Like you and me,
They no longer want to strive,
This endless destiny.

One day they might,
Maybe even as I write,
They may just break free,
and live on for eternity,
In *heaven.