Loneliness is found
58 minutes later
In the arms of a stranger
Wearing what's left of a hiked up dress
Biting down on a down pillow case
Just to ******* own emptiness

Tell me, tell me all about it
Tell me all my wrongs
I'll take whatever weight I've been gifted
Lift it, mesmerize the script and just spit it

And if you're willing
To follow this feeling
Then you can have what I've got left
It isn't much
But a touch is still a touch
Even in times when I don't feel enough
Burning just to burn bright
Lie to me and tell me it's all right

© 2014 Peach

The world I feel,
Is much too quiet
Blanketed in numbing contradictions  
I often forget to mind my tongue
It's the seductress in me,
I'm addicted to certain kinds of fun

So let me ask,
Where did I go wrong?

Was it last week
When I was held tight,
Tied for most of the night?
Or yesterday when I finally gave in?
Because one more minute without you was my greatest sin

Tell me what matters
If you really wanted me
We wouldn't have shattered
So tell me,
Do I even matter?
Cause you still make my heart go pitter-patter

There is nothing worse than thinking of you
When I'm still warm from him
If this is a competition
Then I'm dead tired of trying to win

© 2014 Peach

Have you ever
Brushed a feather
Against someone so wrong
That they were absolutely perfect
And you could watch them,
As easy as forever
Dancing in a torrent of rain
Because they were enough
And you were enough
Even though they never said it
You felt it,
You felt it much too well

Yeah, neither have I
Perhaps that's why I don't cry

© 2014 Peach

We have grown into fresh peaches,
Full blooming curves, rosy surfaces.
Each teeming with the desire
To be handled by a pair of hands.
So, tell me little peach,

How did it feel like to have your juice
Run down his throat?

We are no longer flower childs,
We are maidens, suddenly seated in front
Of the mirror, the ends of our hair
Carrying the weight of our youth.

Mornings, i sit with my knees
propped up like a temple and I pray
that love come as close as loneliness does.

(One night I tried to kiss my own arms
-a train track from elbows to wrists to fingers-
With the lights off. Was it my lips or arm that burned?
In the interlude of tears between my closed eyes
I wondered what it’ll be like
To have another claim me by the mouth
Like that.)

Even when I’m not in love
I’m more in love than you are
In love.

Permanent bruises on my legs
(I'm a peach),
but I don't mind them.
Reminding me when I'm alone,
(that I wasn't)-
you left me sweet thumb-sized poems.