to be clean

I think I’ll go live in a convent in the woods

hide away from the people that know

and the people that want to know me

stay pristine like

a glacier or a desert

or some other uninhabited place

because to let someone inhabit you, to really let them in

causes cracks and tears and irreparable damage

but if you close yourself off again, move it all out, you can become clean again

almost

then that’ll be me

uninhabited and unloved

and happy

because sex makes you stupid

and love makes you stupid

but religion just makes you weird

Orange

The color on my finger nails is orange, but not the orange of an orange that you might find in your local grocery store. More so the orange of an obnoxious southern sports team. It is cracked and flaking off of my shortly cropped nails. I can never seem to keep my nails looking pulled together, but then again I am not “pulled together”. Must everything about me reflect and reflect and keep enlightening the outside. Can I not keep some secrets to myself?

or a lover

whose legs were whose in that mess of flesh that rolled around on the ragged dun blue comforter. Whose hands were yours and mine? It was I that curled into you like the comma before a “goodbye”  but you held me there, like a placeholder or a bookend or a lover.

I will kill the man who invented Bombay Sapphire!

I was almost clear of it. you. I really was. I’d very nearly sheered off all the parts of me that you had touched and left some lingering sticky trace. Of course explaining why I was now bald and missing the tip of my nose was complicated, but worth it. and now you selfish, thoughtless, bastard, you invade my world with a few gin soaked words and I can’t believe this might all happen again. My god! It will be a bloodbath.

Did you know…

You massage your temples furiously and extoll about Harrison Ford having dysentery during the filming of raiders of the lost ark and how he bartered for that famous scene where he shoots the mad swordsman in black. And I love you and I love the way you know what you know, cause you know it all. Your hands cut paths in the air while your mouth forces new ideas into my head. It’s not like the hands on a  clock’s face, your hands are flesh covered mountains. My face is an ave maria, my face is a exaltation to all that is you. And baby there’s no shame in that.  Just keep talking blue eyes, you’re so excited to be telling me whatever you’re telling me, andI’m so content to stand hear and listen. Let it be like this for a little while more, cause there’s no shame in it babe, there’s no shame at all.

this is a confession of madness

I’ve considered kidnapping you

I know, it’s a bit strange

but something I feel, you might appreciate

I would invite you over, under the false (but not really,we’ll get to that later) pretense of fucking you, finally

and then tie you up and duck tape you and then curl up to your

big heavy warmth and just stare into your eyes

and play with your hair, pressing my nose into your scalp

inhaling like some addict, I could curl up and sleep then

finally

because I haven’t slept in days, not since I was last in your arms

with you snoring lightly (read heavily because lightly sounds more romantic, really you snore like a freight liner) curled up holding me like a giant naked toddler

God how I wanted to crawl inside you I loved you so much

But there’s always that terrible aftermath

of pulling away

leaving you so comfortably sleepy

naked and vulnerable

I kept leaning down to kiss you and smell your hair one more time, one more time, just one….more…..time

If I had known it was the last time I would have stayed longer, I would have forced you into some agreement

so now I have to resort to kidnapping and hostage situations all in the name of love and really good shampoo

is it too late?

all they say anymore is that I can’t see you, I can’t love you and I can no longer call you my own. I’ve acquiesced to them because it is for the best and for the good of everyone, and because you really never loved me any way, but I… I want to love you goddammit. I want to hold you and kiss you and smell your hair and I haven’t said no to you yet. I haven’t pulled away, is it too late to change my mind and take you back and let you fuck me crazy and slow and then maybe I’ll get on you cowgirl style. Is it too late to lean in as you cum inside me and say “I love you” to your ear canal?

Fucking you would mean a death in me…and tonight I’m feeling suicidal.

Your hat trick does NOT impress me

There is, obviously there is, some trick…yes some kind of trick that allows you to stop, STOP thinking, stop remembering lips and eyes and hands. But what, what is the trick? Clearly I am clueless, though helpless seems more applicable. Forgive me, please. I don’t mean to be. it’s just, just…what are the words? what are words? all I can think is eyes… eyes, green, no hazel, no green, what a cute argument that was. part of me detaches itself because of you. You, who I didn’t want to date in the first place. You see, I don’t like guys who are pear shaped. (FYI you also have Moobs! your boobs should not be bigger than mine) But still I nestled my hand in between your man breasts and I kissed you softly, then passionately then all over wonderfully, because I wanted to. I WANTED TO! and that’s more than I’ve wanted in months, years maybe. So you can’t just quit now, I don’t think you can just walk away. I’m not an expert or anything, but I’ll lie if that would make you stay. I pride myself on dignity everlasting. I won’t throw myself around begging you to stay, but I’d quietly tear myself to pieces and give you the best parts if you only promise to hold your body next to mine. This isn’t a one time offer, I’m open, anytime. Just come and get me.

Don’t worry you can trust me

now quick close your eyes…no really close them…stop trying to kiss me. ok, are they closed? Now…Keep…………them…………………closed…………………………………………….