and-they-said-fall

 I was scared to pick up a pen For two years I was scared to pick up a pen Criticism Was sometimes constructive But mostly criticism came from A woman who was jaded And chose to dislike me So I was scared to pick up a pen I didn’t think my words were good enough I didn’t think my thoughts were good enough I didn’t think any of it was good enough I wanted my words to be beautiful I wanted my words to be meaningful I wanted them to have a Shape and a Size I wanted them to leave a hole in the universe Where I could follow, if I wanted But I didn’t think my words were good enough And I was scared to pen them For fear of

I remember the first night we lay together Cocooned inside your doona case Your hand curled in my hip and my desire tangible in the air And I remember the time our lips met for the first time As if saying hello, polite, then passionate And your hesitance tasted the way music feels, warm and bittersweet And I remember still the first time we came as one When you were a part of me and I gathered you up in my fingertips And for some stolen time, you were my second skin, my protective covering I remember how you got under my skin And I could feel you there, moving and itching And I could not help but scratch, for you were all I wanted

You drew heat from my breath and lit the match; set the world on fire with my own fever. You shoved the smoke down my lungs and called me mon amour. My legs were like liquid and my skin was numb but burned like ice when you touched it. Silhouettes of shattered dreams have always littered my horizon and you have never taken the time to notice them, only add to the plethora mis- matched memories that I would rather lose somewhere in the foggy recesses of my mind. The picture started out perfect but now when I look I see the fractured glass shards, and the cuts they made across my arms. I wrote my dreams, my failures, my ho

I can feel my cells multiply and stack up inside my bones. I can feel myself collapsing on the inside and I really don't have the strength to try and stop it. My neck is bruised with your fingertips, but the air tastes sweeter when you don't know if you will taste it again so I will continue to let you squeeze the breath from my lungs. I drink cider in the mornings and smoke twenty-one cigarettes a day and can you really not see that I am destroying myself from the inside instead of carving my pain onto the ivory canvas of my body. I still want you to want me. I still want your fingers tracing circles of flames onto my pale skin,

It is an autumn day and the leaves turn orange and abandon the trees, leaving beautiful silhouettes on the horizon I have run from you, left you stewing in your guilt Fingers slowly touch, caressing lightly Today it is my birthday and tears are leaking from my eyes and apparently my lips are too red I hate you when I'm not with you and my trust is inversely equal to your distance from me Lips bruise against each other Fabric sighs as it falls to the floor Straw sticks into my back and I hope I am bleeding through the thin fabric of my shirt I have taken up residence in the bottom of this vodka bottle and I like the way I can't think

You are hoarding my secret truths like gems in your grandmother's earlobes and I don't like the way you clutch onto them with your fingernails and grind them between your teeth. My German skills seem to be improving but it is not my mother tongue and I don't think I will ever have the tenacity that you have mastered. The winter months have seeped their tender fingers inside my mind and they are squeezing my brain and holding onto my heart with a force I thought only you were capable of. My bones are filling up with ash and you don't really seem to care anymore. You only want the space between my legs and my breath upon your ne

My backyard is covered in grass and sometimes I believe that it is the hair of our mother earth, and sometimes I think it is just a nuisance This humidity is playing havoc with my hair and your touch is playing havoc with my heart It is summertime and all I can think of is your hands in my hair and your stomach sliding gently across mine You have left burns on my body and I don't seem to fit my skin right anymore My internal organs seem to have forgotten their place and my liver is near my ear and my heart is pounding in my hands Lean in close and I will tell you a secret, a magical story of a secluded path in the woods near my hous

I'm sitting here on this bed where you sat not hours before and I can feel the heavy weight of air pressing down on me squeezing the air out of my lungs I want to fuck up your world and shred your skin with my fingernails and press your lips and your hips to mine and scream out in the pain and joy of it all When you are with me I cannot function properly and my lips seem to part and my hips seem to reach for you Even though my mind is telling them not to I want to tell you exactly what I am feeling But I don't know what the fuck I am feeling and I don't think I am old enough to want you like this

Dear Lover, My head is heavy and my legs are scarred and I have not left my bed all day. Last night is an overcast day and somehow the sun hurts more hidden by clouds. Do not forget how I ran from you and please note that I was lying when I said it didn't hurt. The pain in my stomach is something I have never experienced before and I am looking at the quote someone etched into my wall and yet I am crying for you when you would never cry for me. I am lying in my bed and yet it brings no comfort because when I close my eyes I feel you breathing next to me, my hand in yours, your lips at my ear. I wore my heart on my sleeve for you and it was

i. I pad quietly around the empty house Tip toeing, so as not to disturb the air I stare at my bed, where you lay not hours before Your beautiful body splayed gently across my cotton sheets The air was thick so the fan was on and your hair tousled softly in the wind ii. It is hard not to feel melancholy at your absence And it is hard not to still feel your hands on my waist Your lips at my ear, dancing slowly to music It is hard not to feel so opened up and exposed After you penetrated me so deeply With your body and your soul iii. You lace your fingers with mine and kiss me when it doesn't lead to sex And is it so hard to beli