in the space between
our sound and silence,
there exist two of me
and one of them
is kissing you.

31/12/2022

It’s the last day of the year, and I’ve had one extra depressive episode
because a 21 year old noped out, apparently I’m demiromantic
and have never had a crush
need a strong connection, when it’s there – it’s nothing
to reckon with, had I known
I’d have put more space between us, taken it slower
rather than convincing myself I have control, as it slips

I’m leaving another lover, wretched with stench
I look at their face in old pictures, becoming
afraid at their void expression, beard
they refuse to trim for me
so I daydream and I know
like, I know now, with therapy that

there is no magical himbo to save me,
no delusions about that, no boo, no more
but I also know I deserve some ******* comfort
after the hell, oh the hell
I can’t broach, if I **** it will burst
like a yolk, I’ll be dead by morning, oh and

he’s so beautiful
his eyes on me, his cautious fingers, fear and shudders
makes me feel like my best was not just good enough
my best was fascinating.
I want to tell him about my songs, mixing in studio 1
I wanna duet, and melt,
I want him on his knees at random words, I want
that worship, wanna feel
his piercing on my
everything,
want to give that worship
not just in a word document,
so I daydream, I get to.
I ******* get to if I need it, daydream about
whichever thing will never happen if I need it.

I will not be shamed for surviving
I will not be blinded to an oasis for the chance
it’s a mirage, I need to
get from place to place, boo
What shall I do as I heal? Drink? Drugs? ******* cigarettes?
did you know the internet says I’ll die at 67?
Little more than half now
my life is not shortened by zoning out -
If I want a muse I will have a ******* muse, and he can think
I’m crazy along with the rest of them,
****
if
I
care,  
I want him to come here.
                                    I want to ask him questions, reasonable questions
because I know I would:
                                                          ­             is this an impulsive decision?
have you broken up?
                                                                ­                               how long ago?
are you in therapy?
                                            I am **** demisexual,
                                                  even in my mind,
                                              especially in my mind
Do       you      want      me      or      do       you       want      polyamory?
Because I can be anyone, and I have already been
                                                         an experiment for some guy, ‘fore he  
                                                            gets­ a bi curious, monogamous girl
Because we can grow alongside one another, but not fix
each other
because you need to process
because if you’re with her, she wouldn’t have a reason other than “my boyfriend really wants to” and that is the worst reason for polyamory, and I am not nor have ever been in the business of hurting people with intent (excluding  grade school, ((I’m
sorry, Martina – double sorry you died from
leukemia,) excluding when you c o n s e n t )),  
I’d like you to answer all of those, then
maybe I get to hold you.

That’s my daydream. Holding you. Watching films, you commenting on them the way I’ve done and annoyed all of my lovers.

how your neck would smell

                                      how your hair and head would feel in my hands

how you’d shiver and breathe shallow, and how easily
I could make it calm.  

and yeah, subspacing you and using your body, I am not entirely ace.

Today I stopped to imagine

If hindsight were foresight,
love languages always matched,
and needs were always met

If we never hurt each other
or let each other down
and if distance, time or death couldn’t separate

If…
If only…

How rich and beautiful the tapestry of our connections would be

Not a day goes by
that I don’t wish
I could have been what you wanted.

I wasn’t Monogamy
or Hierarchy,
but I wasn’t casual either.

No, I loved you,
all of you, each of you,
with all that I was.

I shared secrets,
my dreams, my soul,
but with many.

It still hurts
knowing you loved an idea
when I loved you for you.

I die inside
remembering your pain
even if it was inevitable.

For no one
should have to pretend in love
or live a lie.

You were beautiful,
you still are,
our incompatibilities aside.

Forgive me, loves,
for loving in the plural
and breaking all our hearts.

I used to feel lost here
without a family or a purpose.
Five times I packed up to leave.

"The island won't let me go" -
my dramatic way to shift blame
from a lack of direction.

But...
I met you
and you
and you
and you
and you

This year-long journey became twenty
Now we all have a home in each other
If I am still lost, it is only in Love.

There's a spiders web
Of words I've said
Entangled in the calendar of time
A lovers rhyme of feelings

In minutes or moments or moves
I fell in love with you
A game of chess
Just to feel your breath upon me

I'd wish to call anyone
That singular one
The fable of teachings
Says we're reaching for something impossible

To not feel love across lanes
Indeed, sounds insane
We are wide, we are vast
We are fast to feel full at last.

--- TRIGGER WARNING: themes related to ****** trauma ---


I'm sipping you sweet,
Sweetly.
Tangy, sugary, sappy tastes,
All dancing around my tongue
When you kiss me.
The straw is going to hit the bottom soon,
And croak as it scrapes the plastic.

How long is it gonna last?
How long is it gonna take
To find a new and fresh faced gal?
When I've grown boring and dull,
You'll think back
To when you asked if I'd be okay with a third person,
And I said no.
You'll shake your head,
Wondering how youthful passion passed so soon.
Who knew a life with the little trauma *****
Wouldn't always stay happy?

I want to do that for you,
I really do.
I want to give you freedom in love,
And the kind of affection
That you've been craving your entire life.
I can't though - my mind goes back every time.
It circles round and round,
Synapses resonating,
Until my occipital's eye rolls forward
To watch the memory reel yet again.

I'm folded under my loft bed's sheets,
Laying on my back,
And watching my thumbs type myself to my knees.
I'm scared,
But the desperation for affirmation is stronger.
So I do it, even though I don't want to.
I do it because they're telling me to.
I do it because even though I'm not there,
My body is physically responding.
It grieves the death of my innocence.

Performative bisexuality -
Kissing girls in front of men
Who don't give a **** about me.
This is what I associate
With two and one making three.
So that’s why I can’t do that for you.

Due to the aches in my skull,
I'm chaining your wrists to mine.
That's hardly fair though,
And I feel like I'm being cruel.
Seriously, why should you have to care?
Why should you have to care
About the time I was so lonely
That I fed myself to pigs?

Yet I know that you do care,
But I still feel guilty.
I still fear that our summer will eventually end.
We can only share one cup of this sugary stuff
For so long.
What will you drink
When it runs out?