what is left

You are not here.
And I am losing my will to breathe,
to move forward as I allow myself
to unroll at the seams,
careening forward into indulgence.
I am left with your weight
on my heart, your scent
crowded along the edges
of my body, teeth rattling,
breath heaving as I am gasping,
trying to fill myself full
of what memories I have
left of you
before they fail me.

Will You Love Her?

Will you love her, love her senseless,
plastered black against the night walls
of a million stars drowning beneath the surface of the sea?
Will you kiss her, knock her backwards, bleed her down until the end?
Will you break her, will you
make her, will you shake her hard
against the walls that try to hold us all together?
Will you love her, will you shove her down a flight of
broken stairs?
Will you kill her, will you grill her, question all the actions
against the rhythm of our sanity?

Because
I need to know, know if this love is real
in the vicarious search of blue passion
oozing across the skin.
All I want to do is watch you fall
scream first, into the trappings of a misogynistic
love.

tracing these moments

trace my fingers
over the bank of your ribs,
body carved open
along the green of the grass,
teeth smiling white
against the blue of the sky.
i need to swallow you down
this summer, your breath
hot in my ear, your hands
trailing down the length of my back
as i let myself fall open
into you, eyes wild,
skin burning
as we trace these moments
around the lake.

Watching You

06/03/12

I can remember the way
I watch you,
eyes darting away to not get caught
as I check you out,
scrape the lines of your body clean
before rising up to meet your eyes
in a panic,
for I want to touch you,
kiss you clean,
straddle your lap, lace your fingers
through mine and allow myself
to fall forward into you.

This Evening

I can feel the ache of my lungs,
the collapse of my bones
as I start to fall inwards
from the weight
of this evening.
I need you to pull my ribs forward,
kiss the dry whites of my eyes,
smother me down, bite
the blue of this bruise
slowly starting to bloom
upwards along my chest.
I know this will take time
to heal.

Fall

06/09/12

I want to fall,
unbuckle my arms,
stretch out my fingers,
and feel my bones snap against the wind
as I become elastic, sinking
downwards beneath the bruised
undersides of my eyelids,
heavy with the tears I haven't managed
to shed yet.
But I'm scared to saying this,
spreading voice to these desires,
afraid that if you get in the way
I'll grab hold
and I can't ask you, I can't
ask you the burden
of catching me.
Not when I don't know how far
I have to fall.

Catching Me

06/12/12

I am not asking for anything,
not the weight of your hand
in mine, the trace
of your breath along the back of my neck
or even your smile.
Because I am content
with how it is,
this distance, the searching glances
from the corners of my eyes,
your name not even mentioned
as I run my pen along the paper,
afraid as if I could jinx myself.
I'm scared to lean against you
because I want to, need
to fall
and I can't ask you the burden
of catching me.