not florescent but covered by a translucent screen,
my tense and aching frame washed in a  
dull desaturating blue glow.
streetlights speed past neurotic eyes,
like worries of friends i haven't spoken to,
and every awful thing i've ever
said to my mother.
i think of you, of course,
the way i catch my reflection
in the bus window:
a glimpse—terrified and fascinated.
i wring my hands,
a nervous habit when they're
feeling empty.
everything i want is
always at my door,
and everything i fear
is never far behind.
why won't anyone let me hold them
from halfway across the room?
stay sitting across the aisle,
as mysterious to me
as any other tired stranger.
i see you clearly
but can never tell what you're thinking.

It's important to remember
that the impervious,
and often mellow,
hum of love
is so much greater
than the pain
of the inevitable end
you will experience
whenever you choose
to care about others.

If we forget,
all is lost.

last night i told you all the spiralling thoughts i had Tuesday night,
all the crying and feelings of weakness and helplessness,
the thoughts of not being good enough, self-harm, and so much more.

you cried and held me tight.
i felt numb, but i felt bad that i made you cry.
that vulnerability and knowing that you really see me makes me uncomfortable.
it makes me wonder how you could possibly love me if you truly see me,
because how i see me, i don't see how that's possible.
but nonetheless, somehow you do,
which i know is a testament of God's love and work through you,
but i don't understand it.

Forged by one's own hand so sharp a blade.
Cast by the universes strongest powers.
A forge so intense in heat and fire.
Bonds as strong as any smithed steel.
No artery immune to it's strikes and piercings.
Vulnerability at it's every mortal ******.
Yet still we choose to love.

I long to share this with you
To crawl into your arms
and bloom. Your love.
Open my petals
Don't pluck me from my sepals
Water me, don't hurt..

handfuls of hair,
toungues,
teeth.
the curving air;
alive
in rooms
with hanging doors.
we feast.

our rolling eyes,
shaking lips,
hips.
tremble
under fingertips,
taste the heat
and melt.

we press.
wasting no time
for breath.
it happens.
it happens.
it happens!