Breathe me in like a fine perfume,
i want to take over your senses.
i want to fill your bloodstream and
invade your thoughts.
i want you to think of me whenever
you’re lonely or sad.
i want you to know that i
will always be here, even if
you can’t say the same.
Your kisses are like whiskey,
and i want to get drunk
off of your smooth lips.
Your touch is like acid,
bringing me to new heights
when you run your fingers
through my hair.
Your voice is like cocaine,
and i can never get enough.
i am addicted to you
like others are addicted to drugs.
i’m still trying to decide
whether i’m good enough.
It’s 1:38 in the morning and
I can’t sleep because my body
wants to be with you. My mind
wants to punish me for not having
my body against yours tonight. My heart
feels like it’s weighing down my mattress
while the rest feels like it’s pushing up against
why are you even here anymore?
that moment when you’re more afraid of night than you are of the dark.
I don’t know what words to say to
this empty page that will emit the
emotions that you give me.
it astounds me that the way you
love me can push me to tears because
I don’t know if I’m doing enough to show you
how much you mean to me.
I don’t know how to tell you that I’m
crying because I manage to screw everything up,
and I don’t want what we have to end.
I don’t know why you wanted me so bad
that you turned down two lovely girls
that could probably treat you better.
I don’t know what to do with myself
when I’m having these thoughts, among
others equally undesirable,
and I can’t get a hold of you.
I want to sleep with you,
but in the most innocent way.
I love when you smile at
me and I can see that little
dimple resting on your cheek.
I love that I can make you smile by
kissing your cheek or laying
my hand on your chest as I
nearly fall asleep on you.
I love the way you say that
you love me. the way you whisper
it like a secret or the way you
say it like you’re proud.
I love the way you laugh at my
jokes (even those terrible puns).
and the way we laugh together when
we do something stupid.
I love the face you make when you’re
concentrating, or not concentrating or
literally doing anything.
I love you.
she stares out from the corner
of the room. her shirt, draped over
her exposed collarbones, is slowly starting
to fade into her backgrounds. I pull
my eyes from her thin thighs and her
meager knees to her enclosed eyes.
I wonder what she is trying to hide.
what could be so harmful that she would
wish to keep it from others?
I used to know her, though now it seems
I only recognize her name. the evidence
of her life before darkness, just traces,
a memory of a fading trail.
I try to chisel around her edges, but her walls
rebuild themselves as fast as she can blink away
those tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.
I want to know her again. She seems so distant,
so disparate from the sweet girl that I
can faintly remember.
I want to comfort her. Ask her what monsters
hide under her bed and then offer a nightlight.
I won’t ask her why she is afraid of the dark,
I will ask her if she needs help
turning the lights on again.
and if she says no, then I will stay
with her until she can find the lights
I stare into her eyes and I see it.
Memories of her past. and I want to
ask her why they seem so familiar,
but when I open my mouth,
my breath fogs the glass.