I hoped you could see through the shell to the core of me.
Maybe you did, and it wasn’t enough. . . . → Read More: An open letter to a lost lover from a broken girl
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 This is going to be rough, but I have to get it out before it keeps me up. Sometimes being a writer sucks… I could fall for you I could fall . . . → Read More: I could (catching feelings)  God you’re like a drug  I stand here naked before you  You wanted me to trade my frog songs for the sirens the sounds of an unceasing city You wanted me to trade my languid licentiousness for gritty urbanism You wanted me to trade what I am for what you wanted me to be I did I almost did I refuse I am just as powerless to change the tides of the ocean the direction . . . → Read More: Trade  Drip one touch Drip a fleeting glance Drip a fantasy Drip Drip a glimpse of skin Drip Drip freshly shaven head Drip Drip a whiff of cologne Drip drip drip ripple of sinew beneath taut brown skin slow smile knowing spreading across lips begging to be kissed moist hot passionate kisses probing tongues exploring Drip drip drip drip drip sweet nectar flowing bodies and limbs intertwining flesh pressed against flesh hot breath caressing sensitive skin the scent of pheromones mingling . . . → Read More: Rain  I want to get lost in the poetry of your skin To be mesmerized by the reflection of light in your eyes I want to taste your joy I want to drink in your essence I want to feel the quiver of your skin as blood courses through veins I want to taste the sweetness of your ecstasy. I want to catch . . . → Read More: untitled 2010 1  If you had died that day there could have been redemption in that end I could tell your son that you perished And that you loved him And that you were a good person. I would have talked about your good side and your smile Your talents and charms I would have moved you into a noble role . . . → Read More: The Day You Should Have Died  This poem is a work in progress about the day the dandelions bloomed |
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