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Harsh Feb 2016
If going to
bed with
you is a
sin, I don't
ever want
to be holy.
The only lightning I'll be struck down by is when your lips
touch my neck. I want to let your love permeate through all
of my soul.
Your lips
would be
my chalice,
and I'd
drink away
my demons;
I'll whisper
of my love
at night
veils and
I'll admit it's a little sacrilegious.
I genuinely spent half an hour trying to get the format right.
Harsh Oct 2015
I just wanted to say
that I'll always
love you infinitely more
than you could ever hate yourself.
So if you ever need a reminder
of all the reasons you could be loved,
come into my arms and
let my hands dance down your back,
I'll tell you different ways I love you
with every vertebra I touch
Harsh Oct 2015

Let’s just strip down to the skin and warm each other up under these covers. I want to lay down atop you and let my head rest on your waist, snug between those lovely hips of yours, just above your ***. I want my hands to waltz around your thighs and listen to your gentle breathing synchronize with mine. I want to feel you giving in to this moment, I want to feel your body let go and your muscles unclench.

I want it to be completely quiet around us, not the dead kind of silence, the kind that’s comforting and warm. We don’t need words, our touch conveys what our hearts beat for.

Don’t think.

I don’t want you thinking about what’s happening tomorrow, what time the game is on, don’t think about what’s for dinner. Don’t think about that argument we had last week that still sits in your heart. Let it go dear, just for now. Don’t think.

Run your hands through my hair and think of all the memories we’ve made since the last time I cut it. Caress my face and look into my eyes, darling.

Now close yours. Close your eyes and open yourself up to me. I want to take my time in taking you in. I want to spend eternities on your lips, darling. I want to cup your face in these hands of mine and kiss you; I don’t want that kiss to lead to anything, it doesn’t need to. I want it to convince you of my undying love for you. Drink in the right-now of this moment, of me. I want to sit back and admire every inch of you, my dear, from your flowing tresses down to your toes, and everything in between. I want my hands to run down your valleys and hills and let my lips paint your landscape.

I want you to smile at me from under my touch and let out a laugh as I cover your face with happy kisses. Not the kind of laugh you’d give someone telling a joke, not the kind of laugh you force when someone says something mean. This is my laugh, you’ve saved it just for me, it’s sweet and soft and vulnerable and that’s okay because that’s how we feel right now.

I want to roll you over and let your body lay atop mine and simply hold you, caressing your every curve and warming your heart and your soul.

And then I want to do it again the next day, and every day afterwards until our bones are brittle and our days are at an end.
Inspired by
Harsh Sep 2015
Now, before I met you

                   I was content with

                      twenty-four hours

                     in a day, but

               now I wish

       I could live

 a thousand


in just


Harsh Dec 2014
There's a lot for you to learn, kid. (Mind you, I call everyone kid, don't take it personally.)

Make friends with her sisters, make sure her mother doesn't hesitate to call you her "sweetie". If you do that, you've secured yourself in a place very close to her heart. If her family can love you, she will love you.

If there's an insect on her radar, you get rid of it, no questions asked, no please and thank you. You get it done.

I don't care if dancing isn't your "style", that's one thing you can't take away from her. So it will just make your life easier if you just dance with her. Trust me.

Argue with her. Stand up for yourself. There are times when the fire in her eyes grows and feeds on your submission. It will burn her too, I promise. Douse it and any doubt she may have in her mind about your commitment.

She is one of the most driven, fearless, determined, and independent women I know that graces this earth. But there are times when her past spoils are not enough to appease her and she can and will drown in self-hate. I implore you to save her from herself in these times. She is worth too much. Hold her close and rub her back and tell her reasons for your love with each vertebrae you massage.

This girl will love you with every inch of her possible. She will love you wholeheartedly, she will give you everything she's got. Don't you dare give her anything less. Don't waste her time.

Gifts are always really special to her. She has this way of always getting you something you wanted, regardless of if you knew it. Her gifts are quirky and clever and incredibly thought-out. Appreciate them, please.

There will come a night where both of you will have fire for blood and lust for thoughts. Be gentle, be loving. Make her feel safe.

She gives many different kinds of kisses. She'll give you a quick kiss as you both head out the door, she'll give you these spontaneous kisses that will send smiles through every inch of you, every time. She'll give you kisses that make you question your self control. She'll lie on top of you and give you butterfly kisses with her eyelashes.

One thing she doesn't do is get jealous. Don't you take advantage of that. If she ever does, you’ll never know it. She won’t question you going out with friends or not replying to her texts. She will trust you with all her heart. Don’t **** that up.

I am begging you, demanding of you: do not hurt her. Hold her close to your heart. She will memorize the way it beats and she'll always be able to tell when you fall asleep.

Hopefully you won't have the same demons as I. But rest assured that if you do, she will recognize that all demons are just fallen angels and she will bring light and love back to your shadowed mind.

If you're the one that makes her the happiest, I hope you never have to feel the pain of losing her.

This girl is the last bit of gold in this world, don’t let that shine fade out. Give her every ounce of your being and she will do the same. You will never, ever be loved the way she loves again. You will never have to ask anything of the Universe again.

A name you'll hear in passing.

P. S. I hope you like football.

P. P. S. I shouldn't have to tell you any of this. This shouldn't motivate you to treat her right. You should know instantly in your heart that this girl is precious and that you should cherish her. If your love for her doesn't make you want to do that, then don't waste your time. She deserves better.
I'll try and find the link that inspired a lot of this.
Harsh Apr 2015
You've only ever seen yourself twice:
once in a reflection,
the other in a picture.

You've never truly seen yourself,
so I'll take the liberty to devote my entire life
to describing the extent of your beauty.

The first thing everyone notices about you is
that smile of yours, dear. It's dazzling. It's distracting.
It's absolutely lovely,
and no mirror nor picture can ever replicate its splendor.
Your warm smile melts the ice, while casual chit chat merely breaks it. When you smile, the edges of your eyes crinkle just the right amount, beckoning amiably.

Your laugh is a waterfall
and I want to spend my days letting it crash down upon me,
I want to drown in its bliss. Your laugh is a lilting balm
to the horrors these ears of mine have heard,
a soothing caress to my worrisome heart and mind.

Your eyes, you underestimate their charm.
You belittle them to simple drops of brown darling but they are transformed into pools of hazel, gold, honey, sepia, and cocoa in the sunlight.
I call them bedroom eyes.
I stare into them not to look at my reflection
but to look into your heart.
You smile with your eyes sometimes,
it's really quite lovely.
It's a shame you're not on the receiving end of it.

Your hair is absolutely stunning.
I could run my hands through it and let my fingers get lost in your curls and meet some bobby pins along the way.
You complain of it often, but
tracing the lines of your steep curls with my eyes
sends me into a happy daze.

On numerous occasions I have said it and I will say it again:
you feel beautiful. Your skin under mine feels absolutely lovely, my dear.
I could spend millennia letting my hands run
the length of your gorgeous body. And I'd do it happily, too.
I love the little moles you've got on your cheeks
and your ironing-board-scar and your lips (both sets).
You were born a blank page but now you're a beautiful work of art with depth and shades and texture.

Your body is a diamond: it is multifaceted and precious and priceless.
And it deserves to be looked at, my dear.
I adore your body, sweetheart. From the scoop of your collarbone,
to the curve of your back; from the gentle definition in your arms and legs
to the stronger curves of your *******.
I love the beckoning rise of your hips and your thighs, and the gentle mound of your ***. I could spend an eternity painting your body with my kisses, each a silent praise to the masterpiece that is your body.
I actually don't like this piece as much but I decided to share regardless. Please feel free to send me edits.
Harsh Apr 2015
The weather is really light out; the breeze is cool but these sheets are warm and it's overcast but not cloudy. It's the perfect weather to wear sweatpants and tee shir- no, actually, it's the perfect weather to wear your skin atop mine. The perfect weather to caress your curves under these soft sheets, letting my body warm yours, letting my hands hold yours, letting my eyes drown in yours. It's the perfect weather to coat that lovely face of yours with happy kisses and smiles. It's the perfect weather to talk about how we'll raise Marlye and how big or small our house will be in Bremerton. It's the perfect weather to lie down on your stomach and list the reasons why you make me smile.

*But, in reality, you're not here.
So, it's the perfect weather for me to silently pad downstairs in sweatpants and a hoodie at 3 in the morning, start a *** of coffee, and plunk out lonely melodies on this piano of mine as I wait for my coffee and my heart to warm up. It's the perfect weather for my bones to ache for you, the perfect weather for my lips to still longingly have the lingering taste of you.

It's the perfect weather to miss you.

And you know I'm at a loss for words right now because I'm talking about the ******* weather.
This is a heavier rendition of an earlier piece I entitled "October Comforts." I wrote both at the same time but I didn't really like this version as much, but I decided to share anyways.
Harsh Apr 2015
You're the earth
and I'm a crack in a sidewalk
but my love is like the galaxy
and no matter how you twist and turn
or how far you're forced away from me
or how many storms or disasters I have to endure,
I will always remain among the rubble,
and my love will still embrace your every curve.
A quick testament
Harsh Mar 2015
Scientists say chocolate releases
the same hormones into your blood
as being with your loved one does.

And so I'm sitting at my desk
and it's an ungodly hour to be eating candy
but you're not here and all I want is that
sweet, sweet satisfaction of having
the taste of you on my lips.

I'm craving you, a desire that
clenches at my stomach; all I want
is some oxytocin in my system.

I lean back in my chair and sigh, tearing
another wrapper as I do, each morsel a tease.
This cannot compare to the richness
of your eyes, or the silkiness of your thighs.

This makes my heart beat faster
but you- you make it pound. This sends warm
sensations through my body but your touch
sends lightning through my veins.

It's almost morning now,
wrappers are strewn about my desk
and yet I still crave you.
Harsh Dec 2014
Brake, turn turn turn STOP.
Shift the gear from Drive to Neutral to Reverse to Park.
Switch off the lights, 3, 2, 1. Turn the key and pull it out.
Let go of the brakes. Move the seat back a couple notches. Lean it back a bit. Exhale.

It's 5:36 and I haven't slept all night and I should've but I regret nothing. My hoodie smells like you, I bring it closer to my face. Your scent envelops me, embraces me, kisses me lightly. I wish it was your hair that was wrapped gently around my hand, not my hoodie string. I wish it was your body I was holding close to me, not the cold air.

Sigh. Shift legs around. Stretch arms out. Rub eyes. Look out the window.

I wish I could hold you and kiss you as the sun comes up. We've ended days together often, but we have yet to witness a sunrise. I wish you were here to tell me what colors were where in the sky. I wish I could point out the fading constellations and tell you the stories behind them, while adding on to our own.

Sigh again. Straighten seat, move it up a couple notches. Open the door, check pocket for keys, lock the door.  Lean against it now. Sigh.

I'm thinking of my bed. it's cold, lonely, and it has an appalling lack of you in it. Your body isn't there to warm my bones. You're not there to hold and caress. We rested, naked in thought and partially in clothes.

Sigh once more. Close the door. Keys and hands in pockets. Walk up to the door, unlock it. Wipe feet on the mat. Shut it ever so softly (you can't be waking up Mum). Take off shoes. Sit on the stairs.

It's cold outside and in my bed and again, my bones are frigid. It's Sunday morning and I've a long day ahead of me. I've been up almost 24 hours but I can't seem to sleep: I'm going through withdrawal now, the ecstasy that is your touch now an hour old. I miss you.

Sigh for the last time. Get up, stretch out a bit, get off the stairs.*

I shuffle off towards the kitchen and make myself some coffee. Strong, bold, and sharp. I wish it was your lips that I tasted at 6:43, accentuating my senses and jolting me awake.

Mug in the sink and sugar in the cupboard, milk and cream in the fridge. Up the stairs, right to the bathroom. Strip. Shower on.

The water runs down me and I wish once again that it was your body pressed up against me. Your ******* against my chest, the curve of your hips against my waist. Hands roaming, hearts beating, lips meeting.

Shower off. Drip drop blip blop. Dry off and dress.

**It's 7:30 and my day has started, but my longing for you has yet to end.
I wrote this ages ago when I stayed up a while and she and I had hung out. I was really unintelligible and sleep deprived but I didn't change anything from when I wrote it that morning.
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