another sleepless night
muddled heart,
muddled mind.

i'm losing myself and
it's all your fault

i don't care about
anything else just
fall
in love with me already

i can't
take
it
anymore

I find it pretty ******* hard to believe
That someone like you would talk to someone like me
And not expect me to fall in love with you immediately

Oh god I’m so nervous I can feel the ticking and rumbling and vibration of my heart and my skin and blood cells in my chest and my lungs and my hands and my feet and it’s making me feel all sweaty and dry at the same time and when I do this thing is it going to feel better or worse because it has been a long time since I have done this thing that I used to do all the time but in all the time that I have not been doing it I have just been thinking about doing it again but have been too nervous to go back to doing it and I can’t tell if right now is a good opportunity or if I start doing it it’s not going to last very long or it’s just going to make me feel worse about doing it in the future when I really want to be doing it all the time and then I would lose my opportunity to do it tomorrow because that might be a better time but I couldn’t do it again because of how badly I did it today but if I don’t do it right now I’m losing another opportunity as well and I need something to do now as I am just sitting here and I have to do it eventually or I’ll die of these feelings
I love you so much it hurts

this obsession that consumes and burns within me
is it love, true, unconditional, the kind in fairytales
or limerence, intoxicating, ephemeral, lasting only 900 days
the moment i pledge my highest love, i face my greatest fear

when i fall to sleep at night, you are my last thought
the first when i wake, then all day long
kiss me, sweetly, softly, eternally, promise never to stop

wrap me in your arms, hold me tight, like a scared child
show me your love, prove it to me over and over again
kiss me, on the lips, tenderly, so i can feel your pulse

whisper, in my ear, tell me the lies i want to hear
share with me, the secrets, deep in your soul
faint echoes fading in a wishing well

kiss my lips, my cheeks, ******* tears
undress my dear, bare your skin, your soul, let me see you whole
let me taste your tears, i promise never to leave

run your fingers through my hair, feel its softness, smell it’s sweetness
do you remember, when we first slept together
scared children, orphaned, hugging each other tight, all night

i need to feel you against me, your breath on my neck
your scent, enveloping, penetrating deep within me
hug me, cradle me, rock me gently into security

who is the toy in this delicate, intimate, savage game
the player or played, the dom or sub, the boy or girl
who has the power, the control, the authority when holding another’s heart
lay down, surrender, savor the sweet intense distillation of love and lust
what is the price you pay for limerence my dear
power lies with whoever cares the least

in a  landscape of open graves
every love story are tragedies, always will be
tomorrow is never promised, not ever
you can not fight who you are
you will lose, tragically, epically

when the pain is greater than the fear
meaning, feeling of infinite hope disappears
the light fades to black, you plunge to the emotional depths
unbridled passion becomes overwhelming fear

ask lady Murasaki, “autumn is no time to lie alone”
the blossoms have fallen, the sweetest fruits picked
winter is coming , days grow colder, nights darker
the fire dies, only embers glow, in the center of the hearth
who has the power, the control, the authority when holding another’s heart

What would happen if I reached forward  
and put my hand on your shoulder—  
Would it comfort, or cajole?  
Would you be angry? Alert?  
Because I know you're not expecting this attention.

Would you feel a shock of excitement, or fear  
brought suddenly into this moment  
by a memory  
that you never expected would meet me?  
Would confusion be a blessing in a thoughtless certain day,  
would you remember the last time this happened  
vision dusty and hairs raised  
wondering if I could like to know you, learn to know you,  
make time that's only past when we're passed in it

How can it be?  
Time, measured just in body-lengths and breathlessness—  
spaces in between growing infinite lengths of nothingness.

Will I reveal myself?  
Will I know how to, after years of longing  
Shall I lay down my mother's picnic rug—a space to hold a place for us  
Brushed against your sway,  
is it right that longing and belonging are so far apart,  
or should we capitulate, know that one is just a lesser part,  
go this separate way.

All it would take is for me to reach out in front and touch you on the shoulder  
for you to turn  
and exhale with me  
to change this day.

Simplest of names,
So plain, But how I love to say it
A promise for warmth in igloo block prison eyes
And tone of Daria,
just whelmed enough to respond
A chance of sarcasm is air
Venom in plain daylight.

Plain tone.
Plain mood.
Plain old abuse.
And most would take it from her.
As she would and certainly has taken it from us.

Petit feminine fighter with no haymakers or KO records.
****** face, that rested war and peace between chin and brow.
Baroness of motherhood or is it the queen of hearts and depression?

Stars and music always forever
Anchor tattoos with a key to a heart, now a predator.
Forever enchanted by the la-de-dah and bleeding heart affairs
A savior in no motion or fashion but I dare not call you hypothetical

But a standard broad, beauty and-
So shameless I celebrate seeing you, awkward and so ****
Cleopatra, to be a bit dramatic-
Yes Cleo-mantra, I collectively disintegrate all charm and physical form
And you,  unfazed or unimpressed with either detail of romance

My friend, compromised by style and NO amusement.
There is much more to you than ****** faces and belittling arguments.
There is more to you then practicing soapbox rants in your kitchen.
There is more to you than a shallow mothers intoxications and material.
There is more to you than the new hair dye or the wigs you collect.

The things you store in the boxes cluttering your room with everything not in those boxes
The clothes on your floor, decorations from your teenaged 3rd or 4th personality.
The smell of perfume and coffee and more perfume all over,
stuck to papers, next to wine bottles, borrowed and never returned books, unfinished snacks,
used paper towels, lipstick stained mugs and glasses, your sons toy I stepped on 4 times,
pictures of gone lovers and notes, your license; now found again after the second time ordering a new one.
And…it's expired,
Then finally under the aftermath of years, doubt, clutter, your cell phone vibrating in the fray of sheets.

"found it."

Least we forget that, as we forgot we are both in this room together.
You are so much more than this mess I picked up for you countless times
And though I complain I will pick it up for you and not ask your permission
I won't scold you, I can only exhale failure and help.

Staring blankly into your screen discussing all genres of worldly horror and ways to divert.
Such plans and opinions but no federal funding!
We would pay homage to girl power and the early 90's and call her G.I. Jayne-
(Or not cause she doesn’t have that kind of sense of humor.)
But imagine a solider, a true solider of the meek.
That is theoretically, G.I. Jayne.
Has all of our best interest at hearts, our hero.
Songs of children are said to give her strength-
(She really doesn't like this kind of humor, I must move on.)

My friend truly distressed by the world she can't control from her tiny screen.
I place all comfort I can to her and understandably rejected like a stranger making rounds.
No trust comes from her nowadays, None for me at least. I can't speak for all.
I try to climb over the steep absurdity, alluding to her self-mutilation and task this is
but not going as far as just telling her this is ******* killing me.

I have no lesser or sophisticated words.
I'm dying every time we reach these altitudes.
Fingers and my tone raising at every disagreement .
How you can break me down to my atomic core and decimate miles of friendship.
My closest star in the sky, use to bring me morning tea, flowers and maternity
We now stand in quasar as our space and stardust find mass in thousands of millions of years in development
For me to be sent to the loony bin and you to prison like our heroes from Clinton to Lazaretto.