I love your eyes I love your hair
I love your clothes and how they fit you
I love these bright, shining lights
And the pure ways in which they hit you

My hand begins to slide
Slowly, slowly, up your leg
Soon I see your eyes roll up
And to the back of your head

My name trembles on your lips
My warmth hovers on your tongue
You say that we're just friends
I agree with "sure, it's just fun"

But we both know that this is deeper
Yet neither of us want to admit
That careless ******* does not come close
To what this really is...

You whisper, you shiver
Pull me close until I quit
You let out a breath of air
As I lean in to bite your lip

Swore I wouldn't let myself
Fall in love ever again
But I guess your body upon mine
Was enough to let me just forget

I am done with emotionless love
I'm sick to death of being hurt
I won't let you get away, oh no
I will always put you first

So I turn the lights back on
Let them lick your bare skin now
I thought that I loved you before
I think I spoke too soon somehow

Your body sparkles in the glow
I pull you closer yet again
Confess my love and let you know
We are so much more than just friends

Oh, I hope this never ends...

This chest is no more than a shallow love pit. There are steep, steep worries at the front of my mind. Avalanches of fears tumble down dark slopes, only to land directly on top of me, with no sign of easing pressure. My ears pop pop pop and I am climbing higher, but feeling lower...

Swerve... Collide, no, swerve again.

Unpredictable lifestyles are my least favourite. Surprise!  Panic attack. My shallow love pit aches.

Let me rest, oh please, just let me sleep... Although I am afraid of what tomorrow might bring; bruises, bumps, memories, fun... Terrifyingly unpredictable, to say the least... So let me rest, oh please, oh please. Literally begging, whilst on my knees.

Unfortunate tidal waves of confusion add to the melodrama and I wish to let myself drown. Would anyone help me? There is no saviour at the bottom of the ocean, nor the bottom of a bottle, but please, please, let me drown... Because even drowning sounds better than living this insomnia of a life.

I had always been content with simply floating around, but now that you are here, everything feels different... So let me sink to the bottom of a bottle. Let me rest at the bottom of the ocean. Let me go all the way through life at the bottom, the bottom of anything... For I know that I was not made to make it to the top.

Shoot me with a shot of ***** and drown me with a lot of drink... I do not need your pity, I only need to sink. Don't let me down, just let me drown...

I've had too much time to think.

I may never truly learn how to love this chest of mine, but I am sure that I could learn how to love what is buried inside of it.

I cannot draw on the moon... Cannot let my admiration literally shine down onto you, through the darkness. The moon is a poem within itself, but even the celestial beauty of that planet could not compare to the music that is your smile.

If I were to speak with a passion as warm and as slow as this, I assure you that you would listen... You would believe me. I would rather not deceive them, but it depends on how they perceive me, versus how I perceive my-definite-self.

Because I may be who they know me to be, but that does not make me what they presume me to be.

So call me strange, call me queer... Just know that you can call me any time and I will still be here, for you. I will not disappoint, nor shall I ever disappear, from you.

Because my heart is a compass and I am more than willing to travel all the way to 'Destination: You'. What an exciting journey! Alas, I can only go so far before feeling dehydrated... Yet I shall go on, for I have faith that you, of all oceans, will have the power to quench my thirst.

You are my seven seas, my poetry... My music, my long-lost lullaby... But you are more than just a masterpiece, darling. You are my sense of direction, for you are not only my art, but my heart... And you cannot help but stop beating, when I hear even so much as your greeting.

You wonder why... Ha. Je t'aime, ma chère, je t'aime... À bientôt, ma chère. I have not found you yet, but I am getting there.

Uncertainty fills the air
And suddenly I'm not so sure.
Nostalgia begins to decay
But why?
Heavy, heavier...
I inhale and sigh with, what, exasperation?
Creation?
These are all mere distractions
To prevent myself from colliding
With myself,
With how I feel.
Emotional trauma, Part I -
Coming soon to a childhood near you!
We laugh it off
But it does not leave us.
Nothing can leave us
As easily as you walked away
That night.
I will not forget what I saw.
Engraved in my brain
Causing me to crumble
Tumble, tumble...
**Crash.

Things just don't fit together like they used to. I knew I had lost many of my pieces along the way, but I was painfully unaware of the full extent of my loss.
I slip and my cards fall in slow motion from my hands. I have lost my queen of hearts and I wonder if I will ever find her. My jigsaw gets smaller and I wonder what my fascination with puzzles was ever even about.
Youth misleads our clumsy fingers until adolescence can guide them more clearly, but how is adolescence to know the right direction? What is our destination anyway? Where are we going? What are we trying to find?
I reach under the couch and find a joker... Wait, he was joking? It shocks me like a jack in a box. How could I have been so naive? Of course his actions were insincere. They always are. They always will be.
I am looking for my queen of hearts. Her jigsaw pieces slot perfectly into mine. She is not so much of a queen as a princess, but she certainly possesses many a gullible heart. She possesses my gullible, frail heart.
I yearn for her crumpled, dog-eared kisses as she floats to the floor with the certain elegance of a queen. She snapped my heart, spit on the pieces and dealt me out a new hand. She does not understand... The only hand I wish to have is hers in mine.
She may have gone fishing for a challenge, but there will always be too many riddles for her to answer... I lost my queen of hearts. I am puzzled. I am too afraid to gamble my love away on any other card.
Once upon a time, she bet that I would give in, give up and fold her up. No, I will not fold until I have won... I will win her heart. I will win the game.

You think you're so cool...
Bad boy, detached.
Nobody knows you
like you know yourself.
Leather jacket, crooked grin.
Only few deserve it.
Pocket-watch, single hoop earring.
Vintage, vintage...
How did you get so great?
Perhaps you stole the lost souls
of fragile beauties.
Perhaps you aren't so great after all.
Perhaps...
Or maybe
you just got so sick of hating yourself,
that you decided
to hate everyone else instead.
Maybe...
Or it's possible
that you lost your own soul
in the eyes of a fragile beauty...
And it's possible
that you're too far gone
to be saved.