i need your love

i need

your love, 

pale along the lines

of my skin 

in the early pink of the morning.

the birds are barely

waking

as the sun creeps past

the body of the curtains,

just allowing enough light

to alluminate the side of your face

pressed into the pillow

in bed beside me.

you will not wake,

just like every other time,

even with the rustle 

as i pull the blankets free 

of my body,

plod my footsteps across the floor

to the bathroom as i shut

the door

without care that you'll hear me.

the sun is high

by the time i'm gone,

the spare key of your apartment

in the mailbox, 

one of my earrings lost

between the mattress and the boxspring,

and the wind a faint whisper

through the leaves of your houseplant

that you've forgotten to water 

once again.

and even after i regret it

i will still return, 

regardless whether you kiss me,

smile in the light of the day fading,

trace your hand gently

along the side of my cheek

and lie,

just enough to keep believing 

it all.

i need your love.

Kissed Her

I can feel the bruises forming beneath the sockets of my eyes, the lids heavy with the tears I haven’t managed to spill yet as I let my lashes flutter softly in an attempt to close. She’s smiling as she waves at me.
The blue of her dress matches his tie and the enraptured glow in her eyes as Kirsten pulls them over to the side of the arena for a photo. Everyone is just milling about now, laughing, trying not to spill food on their clothes and wishing that the committee had been smart enough to provide chairs. They probably thought it’d be too difficult to provide chairs for two hundred and fifty teenagers in addition to the food.
We’re all just waiting for the final call now so we can put the gowns over our prom attire and start the ceremony.
I look towards my date, who’s in conversation with a girl who was in our math class. We’re dressed in a loosely matching fashion, both in complementary shades of green that could mean we’d planned it or it was accidental. It was accidental by the way; I chose my dress to complement hers. She doesn’t know though.
And I intend to keep it that way.
I watch her detach herself from his arms, laughing as he kisses her lightly on the lips, his fingers lingering on her waist as she turns and starts over towards me. “Sarah, take another photo with me.” This is a demand, not a request. I pull my camera out of my matching purse and hand it over to Kirsten, who’s now been unofficially designated the night’s photographer.
I wrap my arm around her waist and squeeze gently, not enough for Kirsten to detect as she fumbles, trying to balance three cameras at once. It’s still enough for her to notice though, as her expression freezes in a large smile.
“Don’t,” she whispers, “Not now.” Her breath is in my hair, her right earring softly scraping my cheek as she turns to meet my eyes.
“Then when?” I mutter under my breath as I reach up to adjust one of the loose curls of her hair. She doesn’t answer. The flash goes off and one of the chaperons starts yelling for everyone to get into their gowns.
She squeezes my hand reassuringly as she lets go to retrieve her camera from Kirsten and I feel the ring on her left hand bite into my fingers before she lets go.
There’s ten minutes before the ceremony starts.

“We shouldn’t,” she gasps. I don’t answer but continue running my fingers through her hair, tracing the lines of her face and the curve of her lips. The basement is dark and the movie is playing loud enough to cover any sounds that might travel through the heating pipes. My brother is in the garage with his guitar, trying to rally the half of his band that bothered to show up for practice. My parents left for the movies an hour ago.
We’re practically alone.
This is the second time we’ve kissed. The first one doesn’t count because we’d both been drunk and it’d been a dare. Plus her boyfriend had been watching.
Her hands slowly curl inwards, clutching my thighs as I lean forward and softly brush my mouth against hers.
“Again,” she whispers as I pull back.
“Again,” I mumble against her mouth as she lifts her hands up, tangling them in my hair, pulling me back towards her.

I have no idea where my parents are seated in the arena. I’d told them to sit on the left so they’d be able to see my face as I walk over to shake hands with the principal and receive a fake diploma. The government will mail us out the real ones sometime in the middle of august after all the high school graduation examination results have come back. In the mean time we get a piece of paper with our name stating we’re a part of the graduating class and are allowed to take part in the after party.
We manage to shuffle our way into our seats, aiming for a semblance of control. We’ve barely found it as the opening speech ends and the first name is called. Ten seconds later the first beach ball appears.
I’ve found where she’s sitting, in the middle of the opposite side of the stage, at the end of her row. She claps wildly as her boyfriend crosses the stage, the speaker droning on about his plans after graduation. I try to blur them over in my mind.
I only want to watch her for as long as I can.
We’re now on our third beach ball and we’re only half way through the ‘c’s. The others were confiscated as quickly as the teachers could manage. I have no idea how many more we’re going to go through. It looks like it’s going to be a long night.
They call her row and now I’m counting down until she crosses the stage. The girl three people before her trips over her heels on her way up the stairs. She sits up laughing, stands and takes a bow before she stumbles over to receive her diploma.
Two left.
One.

“This has to end.” She sits up, drawing my blankets over her breasts as she turns back to me and frowns. I’m still smiling from the aftershocks though. She’s naked, willing and in my bed. Things have been going perfectly.
Well, they were.
“What?” Even to my ears that sounded hollow.
“You know,” she whispers, “This.” She waves her left arm, the one that isn’t holding up the blanket, in a wide circle to encompass the two of us in my bed. The sight of her nipples as the blanket slips isn’t enough to even out the tone of her words. Besides, I know she didn’t plan that on purpose.
I sit up beside her, gritting my teeth. “Give me a good reason why.”
“I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“I knew that. You knew that. Didn’t stop us the first time.” Or the second. And the third. “What makes it different now?”
“Sarah, I can’t handle this anymore.” Her eyes are wide and from the way the blue in them shimmers I know she’s about to cry. I reach over to put my arm around her shoulder but she shrugs me off.
“I can’t handle the sneaking around. I didn’t expect it to go this far.”
“Don’t tell me this.”
“This needs to end Sarah.”
“It this because we’re friends? Or because we’re both women and you’ve decided you like men better?”
She glares at me. “I don’t even know what to call our relationship Sarah,” she hisses. “All we seem to do is sleep together.”
All the late night movies, all the texts, phone calls, notes in class, all the laughter whips through my head. “That’s not true.” I whisper.
“Sarah, I feel like we’re fuck-buddies,” she says softly.
I feel like she’s slapped me. “I love you.” I whisper as I slowly take her hand and trace my fingers through hers.
“You don’t mean that.” she whispers, “Not like that.”
“Will you just listen to me!”
She shakes your head and slip out of bed before I can tighten my grip on her hand. “He asked me to marry him Sarah. I said yes.”
As I look up at her standing naked in front of my bed, hair tousled, fading hickies left from him trailing up her neck, I feel like I’ve been sicker punched in the gut. She’d told me that I couldn’t leave marks on her.
I finally understand why.

“Emily Collins.” And she’s walking. Hand outstretched to shake the principal’s as the other one tucks her diploma under her arm. I can hear her father and her brothers’ yelling in the background and her mother crying as she walks down the aisle, smile radiant, waving to the crowd.
And I’m laughing and clapping as the tears start to slip down my cheeks. She’s walking, one arm raised in a triumphant wave of victory, the flash of her ring from the arena lights a glint out of the corner of my eyes. I can’t quite manage to hold it in.
It’s all crashing down around me. The scent of her perfume, the scrape of her teeth along the curve of my ear, the press of her lips against mine, the ring of her laugh in my ears, the curve of her smile, the weight of her breasts in my palms and the unspoken misunderstood expectance of a promise.
It’s all finally over.

Flower Girl

In all the moments
of every hour when our
clocks were crushed together
until they beat collectively
within the gears of time forever,
I only remember the hue
of your skin,
white earth as the ever encroaching
garden burst into full bloom
and shredded its petals down, out
across your cheeks,
flooded your lips and blew
the winds of summer fever
down beneath the surface of
your eyes.
I can only breathe back the scents of
the sole time you let yourself
blossom, flower, grow heavy
while fruit ripened upon the vine
and turned to seed,
despite the fact that these memories
can't spread your taste out upon
my tongue, ease my longing for your flavor,
as I lean forward with
the intent to kiss you.
For I know, in all
the rational content of summer madness,
it's foolish to fall in love with
an annual girl.

Waking Up Part II

It was dark when I awoke. No light was visible, and all I could hear was the soft sound of your breathing. In and out, in and out… so gently that I knew you were asleep.
I could feel the old, worn sheets beneath me, and the blankets were wrapped around me like a serpent. The serpent was going to kill me. That was certain.
Your arm fit perfectly around my waist. For some reason, women’s bodies seem to fit perfectly with things. Maybe that’s why they keep making musical instruments after our hips. We’re just the right shape.
I fit perfectly with you. I could feel your arm over top of my ribs, and the way our legs were tangled together. I couldn’t see anything, though. That feeling was getting stronger the longer I laid there and listened to your breathing.
It was dark, and then I began to panic.

I couldn’t see. The light was too strong. I’d shut the bathroom door so I wouldn’t wake you up.
I couldn’t wake you up. I couldn’t face you, not after what I’d done.
I threw up into the sink, but I had nothing to give, only bile as I attempted to get rid of the taste in my mouth. I turned on the tap and tried to wash it all down the sink.
When I looked up, I noticed the marks covering my body. Everywhere.
I let out a strangled scream, but caught it as I fell down onto the floor. The tile was cold, and the white reflected back into my eyes was impersonal. I couldn’t feel anything.
In my mind, it was still dark. I couldn’t see the lights as they blazed overhead. I couldn’t feel the tile beneath me, despite the fact that I was naked.
I was naked.
It was still dark and I could hear your voice, but I didn’t want to listen to the words. I didn’t want to remember what you’d told me last night.
I could still feel you, though, as your presence wrapped around me. I heard my heartbeat in my ears as it thudded in dull repetition. Bu-dum, bu-dum… over and over, over and over, as it became interwoven with your voice.
I remembered you saying that you loved me, even though you knew I was using you.
I was using you, and that thought made me try to throw up again.
I was naked, and in the bathroom mirror, I could see all the hickies you’d left on me.
Leftover reminders of last night.

You were still sleeping. I tried to move quietly as I searched around the room for my clothes. My jeans were in tatters from the climb up to your window, and the rest of my clothing was soaked from last night’s rain.
I couldn’t stop staring at you as I struggled into my clothes. You were sprawled across the bed without a care. Your hair was a circular tangle, and along your skin, I could see the marks I’d left.
All along your back and arms were scratches from my nails. On your neck was something that resembled a bite mark.
My breathing was becoming more and more irregular as I fought back the desire to start screaming. I wanted to break something, to rip my heart out and stomp on it. Maybe if I could hurt myself, I could make it up to you, because I knew that I was going to rip your heart out.
You were naked.
And I’d been naked, though I was trying to erase that fact as I dressed, attempting to hide the filth I could see growing along my skin.

I could feel the room around me. The wood floor beneath my feet, the old bookshelf filled with a child’s library, the bed with the covers rolled all into a tangle.
I could see myself in the mirror on the wall, and my reflection looked wrong. I looked like a girl. I looked like a mess. I looked like somebody’s lover who was leaving.
And you were my lover, lying there on the bed, as I got ready to run from you.
I could see Eden.
I could see paradise.
I could hear you say that you loved me. My brain repeated your voice over and over, until my screams poured over it and drowned the earth surrounding me with all its flowers.
You said you loved me.
You said you loved me, and I was waking up.
I woke up from a game you’d been playing with me, because you knew I would never, could never love you back.
And I was running.

It was dark, and the room was empty now as I shut the door behind me. Karissa was in the hall, and if she was shocked, she didn’t say anything. She pulled me away from you and got rid of me in the politest fashion possible.
It was dark, and all I could hear was my breathing.
It was dark, and I let the panic take over me because now I couldn’t wake you. My delayed reaction had started, and I couldn’t stop it.
I’d finally woken up and walked into a nightmare.

Imaginary Lover

Hey
Are you listening to me
I'm always listening to you
Despite the fact that I can
No longer hear
Your voice

I want to see you
Laughing
Just like your ghost
As she whispers in my ear
Of a memory I silenced
And my enjoyment of
Staining the two of us
Red
With a ticket down to
Hell

You're always nineteen
With your hair long and flowing
And bruises down your back
You're smiling
As you say you wish that we were
Siblings
A relation of some kind
For blood is more definite than
An unformed idea
Sometimes I think I'd love to
Kill
That thought

I don't want to see you crying
As you curl up on the grave
And I could almost see you
Falling down
Within the mix of grass and flowers
As they grew over your
Pretend corpse
Within the sun

I want to see you sleeping
On the deck
As you create an abstract image
Against the wood
I can pretend for now
That you're mine
While I bend down with our hair
Mixing
As I steal that one kiss
That damned me

I want you to fall in love
With me
I want you to be mine
But you never say those
Words to me
In the context I want to hear
Now you're gone
And I'll watch your grave
Day and in and day out
For a shred of movement
Or a memory
To prove that you're
Alive

You used to say you loved me
When we were alone
On the deck
With the wind as it blew
The scent of flowers past us
And up into the grave yard

You used to say you loved me
Like a sister
For we were both women
You see.