I'm just so addicted to the feeling of feeling. Of wishing for something more because this can't be it. I want fireworks, smiles that stops the heart, the softest touch of your hand against my waist, explosions and gasps saying all that our mouths can't say when we're breathing in each other. I want a love that you can really feel, that you can touch. I want eyes talking, staring hungrily at me like they just can't have enough. Kisses adoring every inch of my body and you grabbing my hips because you just need me closer to you. I want that. Even if it's just in my head, I want it. So I stay dreaming all my awaken time, knocking me over to feel something more than this nothingness, turning me inside out to find a new angle where I might meet you. Through movies, books, even my own texts. Because I need to feel it to soften this longing. I need to feel like there's something more waiting for me than just these ordinary emotions, this neutral life.

I enjoy silent personal smiles,
Brought on by a text,
          A meme
                             Perhaps remembrance
Or the memory of a touch
An old song you just remembered
                                            By the beat of the bus' bouncing
                     Seeing other's
              Is just about as good
As having my own

Sometimes stars explode
and leave behind the most
beautiful nebulae in the universe-
but that is one in a billion.
Somehow you create a nebula
with every touch,
and every word.
So what does that make you?

I fantasize...
of walking
on this grey day
a girlfriend in tow
to the Cadillac cafe.
Maybe...
8 blocks
Up Broadway.
Peering through window
glass-
at passers by.
Orange juice to lick
my lips.
Listen-
melodic voices
The Humms of a Saturdy morning

his words burned through people
with barely a care in the world
corrosive, toxic, flammable,
the strongest acid she'd ever seen.

her words slid over people
like soap, a weak base
so she kept quiet
meek could have been
her middle name.

she thought they could neutralize.
she thought he was a weaker acid,
one that could complement her,
not one that burned at the touch.

but burn he did.

nevertheless, she prevailed.

i could see heaven in your eyes
the saddest sun will rise
a forever we may be
if only your eyes could see
lips as soft cream
touch so gentle at the seam
i wonder if you could love me
cause when i look at you i see the sea
Could it be?
Maybe meant to be