I gave you the tighest hug
neither one of us could breathe
we both released each other
burst out in laughter, smiles we shared
who knew we'd see each other again
all because of a blank stare

NaNi

Flesh hooked on lampposts (ribbon-like)
Railings, bus stops, fences too
Unlooping miles and miles of eager skin
Colouring the pavement with vivid

Bone strung like windchimes (hoisted high)
In all the brightest places
Mainly on rooftops, we have an affinity
The sun splatters them pastel each day

Muscle- candyfloss on benches
Warm, thick (seeps into their mouths)
Chunks of wriggling bliss in the tighest corners
Embossed with sweet disaster sprinkles

Me me me; the essence of Me
My pulse spread out across the city
My veins in the underground
My heart cut up onto various plates
The pieces will take years to be found
And they're not all mine anymore.

But under the ivory moon
When I'm sighing, "I'm lost" to each night
My city rocks me straight to sleep
And walks me through the dying light
So while I'm here, my soul's all right.

when he says he’s starting not to care, do not press your lips on the curve of his spine when you cannot fall asleep. do not wear the bra that hugs your chest the tighest and do not wear his favorite shade of lipstick. when he tells you that you care too much, do not hesitate to create a barrier. i have a feeling you have nowhere to be but you’re heading out of his door with no intention of looking back. when he says that he is not capable of loving you, believe him. you are the headlines on the front page of the paper, bold and noticed. you are the wind dancing, creating goosebumps on the skin of many. you are a woman who cannot risk her heart being held in the wrong hands. when he looks at his own hands, he will remember yours. you will be the ache in his voice as he tries singing songs for the next few months. you will be the empty seat next to him while he decides he wants to start drinking again. you will be his first shot of alcohol and his last game of beer pong. you will be loved. you will be. you will.

the day I turned thirteen
my mother looked at my
hips and told me, "girls
with curves shouldn't wear
baggy clothes." since then
I've tried to stay out of
clothes as much as possible
because the tighest thing
that I can wear is my skin.