Dear Lover

+

Please feed my soul or I’ll be forced to let go

Wasted are my thoughts. Thoughts of those who weren’t worth my time. Empty shells have come knocking, but once they saw my spirit they fled, leaving less then dust behind. There is one, who is different from the rest.

He does more than feed my soul, he nourishes my psyche. He loves me wholeheartedly. I whispered words of affection into his ear. And he asked me to say them aloud, strong and clear.

“Dance with me, transcend with me, challenge me, be everything I ask you to be, be more than what I ask you to be, be song and dance for not me, but for you. Be life and death with me, progress with me, kill time with me, intertwine both our minds for me, smile with me, cry with me.

For you, I would write a million poems because there are simply not enough words to describe the type of being you are.”

Some say truth hurts and a lie is bittersweet, but I would rather you, be honest and kind to me. Say what you mean, don’t be silent because in this moment, there exist just you and I. In this space we share, this small amount of time. We are in unison in almost every kind of way. We are limited, when it comes to how long we stay. And he never calls me beautiful, because beauty never lasts. But he calls me, his and I tell him every night that he is mine. For we are flawed and free, but unlike our flesh, this love will always be.

Watching (In our library)

+

We made love on our library floor.

With all of them watching.

Hemingway and Bukowski thought, I was the most ferocious woman.

Where as Shakespeare and Fitzgerald whispered of how well you performed.

While Poe thought of all the dreadful things that might happen, if we ever decided to let go.

It was only Dickinson, who understood why.

So many of the best moments only happen, every once in a while.

No matter how hard we try, to capture the feeling in a poem or a photograph.

And just as she,

These thoughts, these feelings

Are intended for none, although seen by many.

The creator

+

There’s nothing I want more than to be closer to my creator. For you have shaped my skin and bone. Made every beauty mark and scar. You stretched out the subtle space between my two front teeth. You made my hair so wild, it even defies gravity, and my skin the very shade of the earth, that we walk upon.

All this, so that I would remember to love myself, never settling for less than I deserve. You made sure to send people into my life who would help teach me, patience. Molded me with kindness and fire, so that I could push through adversity. You made a rough draft of my life, crumbled it up into a ball and said, I’ll let her decide. Whether she will or will not follow all my signs.

Love me either way, but constantly remind me that really, truth and raw beauty lies inside.

Dear Strangers

+

I have had so many love affairs with my eyes.

Direct & enticing

Deliberate & sweet.

In this moment, you have somehow become mine.

Remove every layer of cloth, while I trace my fingers along your scars, down your spine.

Allow me to create art.

Paint your body with soft strokes of emotion.

Water your mind.

I’m sorry, you like many have become victim to my art.

My body is at standstill, air passes through the lungs.

No sound escapes, but be sure that if I have ever loved you in any type of way. 

Whether forever or just a day.

You may never hear it from my mouth, but only know it from the words I write.

These words are mine and in this moment, so are you.

Too many lovers & somehow, still too few.

boys

+

i hate boys

some make me feel like im not wanted

some make me feel like a toy

some think my soul doesn’t add up with the body that my spirit decided to enjoy

some think im a weirdo, they’re right i am

some are intimidated, they run away because they are scared

some no matter how much i do, don’t seem to care

some want me physically

none want me spiritually

so ill hate boys until the death of me

I wonder what it’s like to meet a Man.

+

It’s the rain

It’s the sun

It’s my messy handwriting

It’s that never ending search for the one

It’s the plants, that hang down from the wall

It’s my favorite flower of the sun, she stands tall

It’s how badly I crave to find someone who will listen to it all

The good, the bad, the dark and ugly

The foolish nonsense that it involves

My mind, a terrible place, but once the pen starts, it doesn’t stop

One click of the key is all it takes

So it’ll be the rain and then the sun

It’ll be whatever it takes

To make sense, where there is none