hotly simmering in my veins,
just beneath the surface.
i'll have it any other way.

making small talk,
i'm acting as if i'm not adraid.
but i'm oh-so sick of
the talking, dancing around, ghosting.
rinse n' repeat,
i'm gonna keep this away.

but i want it,
but any other way.
'cause it's so nauseating
chatting, smiling, being a little flirt,
then curling up in bed.

and it is still simmering hotly, in my veins.

i'm on edge,
this i must confess.
i want, no i need to hold her face
i need the stars aligned today,
the cosmos leads my fate
and i need her in this place.

'cause it's blue and gray in here,
but she's my sunflower
could order the sun to face her,
such greatness...

and i would kneel for her, would stand by her,
would leave the rest away.

so i'll have it any other way...

what do I do
with all of these poems I wrote you
for one, A poet does not love
she writes,
would she just destroy all the literature
she wrote
i don't know the answer

i look for you in the faces on the street
i ache for you in the songs that i sing

an out i didn't take
the memories unmade
a life we didn't live

he hurt me
but i hurt you
that's just the way it is

love in my throat, caught stuck, then swallowed--
dulled razor blades descend, hit my stomach,
and dissolve into honeyed drink that soothes me.
it is rough to start, as we may all know,
and eases itself into our core when we let the right one in.
and i did, without question. we may fight, sometimes,
about the silliest things, but that fire
is what heats my heart when i'm at my lowest.
she's beautiful beyond words, and sweet and cute and kind,
but never tell her that or she'll curse you with her evil
wizard magicks.
i love what she is and what she isn't--
patient (no), passionate (yes), and that she cares
about me in a way that invalidates my previous hurt.
i worry that i won't be good enough, that she'll find someone better
for her, or that i'll do something stupid to ruin it all.
but the essence i've consumed by living teaches me to improve,
compels me, not just for her sake but mine.
love is teaching me, warm honeyed drink in me, and i listen.
all that i can say after this is: thank you.

your wounding actions was a whole book to me
and that hurts me
i fell in love with the wrong person
and that hurts me
i stayed with someone who wasn't good for me, but i was too blinded by love to try and leave
and that hurts me.