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Grey May 2016
When she held me, I felt like an earthquake,
shrapnel cutting quick to the bone.
I’m disaster, an unknown
kind of danger is the most dangerous

When he held me, I felt like a riptide,
all control ran out the door.
With the *** and cappuccinos
I felt out of place in my new home

When she held me, I felt disgusting,
every move my own betrayal.
Yes, she hurt like a gunshot
but I did this to myself

When he held me, I felt strange,
like I should give my whole self.
He never asked, I’m thankful.
I don’t want to ruin everything else

When she held me, I felt like a secret,
like I was something small and wild.
In a room of screaming children,
we were something invincible

He never held me, but that’s alright.
Someone tell him I understand.
Take it slow, like we’re new friends.
I’m alive for once

No one touch me, I don’t want it.
Stop breathing down my neck.
My throat fills with *****,
But the hands never rest

No one touch me, leave me alone.
Stop pressing on my back.
There are thumbprints on my wrist bones
and handprints on my thighs

Don’t touch me when you aren’t here.
So many years have passed.
Is it trauma? I don’t care.
The filthy feeling always lasts

Don’t touch me when you aren’t here.
Nobody ever has to know.
When you’re sitting by your lonesome
Nobody cares, you’re on your own

Nobody cares, you’re on your own
Clay Feet Jan 2015
Lovely mornings, evenings, nights our hearts took flight
Laughing ceased as sighs increased.

Wafts of sensual sweet smells rose.
Bodies, curved in writhing poses glowed.

Cares lost in arousing touch, lingering fingers longed for
Secrets, shared in sacred sighs and wanton lies.

Arching union quivered and quaked.

I whispered then and will again
Stilettos are not made for walking,

Their soul purpose, freeing our rising desires,
Feeding rapturous tinglings of sensual ecstasy.
Edited 02/01/2015
Either you end up
In my poems
Of heartbreaks,
Sadness and misfortune
Or you end up beside me
Filling the gaps between
My fingers.
Quotes
I pull up your number
Lucky digits
If I hit it
Will I strike out
Pressing send
Its a gamble
I'm in shambles
Come on baby
Let me win the lotto

-JCM-
I was too young and too smart
To operate under the illusion that I was capable of love.
But his fingers were so long and slender.
The way they wrapped around the back of my hand.
His palm was soft and smooth.
So cool,
And not at all sweaty
Compared to the rest of the gym.
I never felt butterflies in my stomach.
I never wanted to let go.
marianne Nov 30
I wake and it’s here,
in my shallow breath
the cold rising—
fear is all fingers, cold boney fingers coiling
squeeze lungs twisting muscles
greedy morning glory fingers reach
and wring

I fear so much—
being too cold, too hot, too fat
too hungry
untethered
too broken, too wrong, too right
unbending
giving too little, too much
missing the point
I fear 2028
rich white men
on top
waters rising, babies crying
in closets
I fear death, but pain more, I fear death
but leaving more
heights and small spaces, I fear losing
my freedom and the freedom I’ve lost
I only have one pair of feet

I fear the future

I fear the future fear imagines—
weeping mothers stinking waters
broken earth, apocalyptic
winners and losers, alone
in brambles or white rooms
passed over by
Wholeness

       My eyes tune in
to shifting light

Fear is all cold fingers and high drama—
cracking knuckles, it writes its own story
always the same score, sly rascal
and grandiose,
end to its beginning

       Feet find the cold morning floor
my fingers know the way to kettle and pen
I’ll write a different ending
Because I'd rather live in hope than in fear.
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