conflicting hearts of mine.

You touched and loved me

And i peeled your fingers off of me,

I feel your touch,

I feel your love,

And yet i want nothing but.

Then i sit alone at night and

I crave you,

Or anyone,

To love

But still i push and shove you away.

I do not care for your name nor your body,

I want only your love;

I want your hands on mine,

I want your heart on mine.

But not for too long,

Because your heart it heavy;

And it will crush and suffocate my lungs,

Forgetting how to breathe

I reach to the surface and spit you out yet again.

But next time,

I want to know how long i can hold my breath.

memory.

Memories are strange things; one ticket for the private screening of my life. That is, what i can remember of it. The funny thing is i will remember the best and the worst but the mundane things, the things that make up the bits in between, i won’t. I won’t remember having spaghetti on the 23rd of august, or the face of that boy i once kissed; their lips along with their name become a blur, just as that night has. It’s strange how a faded memory in my eyes is the most remembered night from another’s. It’s strange how i can think back to some nights, almost as if i am there once more. It’s strange how now, today, may not even become a memory to be forgotten; too mundane to maintain in the jumble of memories that remain inside this head of mine. It is strange. 

“Do people take advantage of you?”

I imagine you thinking of that night of us when those words spill from your lips, i imagine it because i know you regret what we did and, so do i. I imagine it because it means that you worry that others do the same as you once did. I imagine it because it acts an apology, not that one is needed but i like to imagine you still care about me. It’s just nice to know that you’re not a complete ass. In hindsight you did take advantage of me; i know that now.  And i know that i thought i was head over heals for you, and if we just fucked on your bedroom floor maybe i’d become a permanent resident; maybe even upgrade to the bed. But i also know how bad you feel for taking the one thing i wanted to keep before passing it over as if some token into my life. i can’t help but wonder how differently things could’ve played out. but know, i don’t want you, i used to and i think that still taints my lips.

dreaming.

My eyes are blinded by the future

But i’m always two steps behind

So eyes will stay glazed until i’m six feet deep;

When i have soil for eyes

And worms for a brain.

I need fog lights;

To shine onto the road ahead

But it’s not time for a spring clean

When it’s winter and the mist is still thick.

So for now,

I live in this dream

Until the thought of winter can ride by

And it becomes spring once more,

Or until soil and worms join my side

Painting a picture of spring before my eyes.

Beige.

I see love in fingertips touching,

Making sure to remember every inch of your body.

I see it in eyes meeting after what seems like hours of laughter

While snow falls outside and the fire roars,

I see it in creating priorities,

Lifting above everything you thought imaginable.

 

But ultimately,

Fingertips that were once discovering new land

Have seen all there is to see,

They long to explore fresh grass

Rather than to sit in this bland desert filled with cold hearts.

Jokes that once ended in hours of laughter

Now fail to even crack a smile

And eyes stay glued to the floor.

And if they do meet they echo the roaring fire;

Rather than the snow as before.

And priorities have become a less frequent occurrence,

As you have become bland and ordinary.

 

Hold onto hands,

Lock your eyes,

Treasure time spent together.

 

Love is temporary;

And memories will last forever

But when your heart is fading into a pale beige

And your attempts to hold on are failing;

Know when to let go.

 

But don’t get pushed away;

Walk away with purpose,

With pride and love for what once was,

And no regrets of the past.

 

Keep eyes up

Mouth spread wide

And look onwards to see what the future hides.

 

I hope it’s a purple or a bright green;

Any shade far enough from this dullness and bland

So I can hide behind this smokescreen for a little while longer

Before i end up on this same shore of sand and sea painted beige.

sickly sweet.

Body

Mind

Intertwined

We left our hearts at the door

Leaving only the beat to enter

Not wanting anymore than what’s led out for us in the sheets

 

Fingers

Touching

Pulsing

As we grasp onto this night of heat

While the sickly sweet taste of naivety tarrs our lungs

Coating the vile taste of reality

 

Hearts held apart at arms length

But mouths are discovering new lands

And they’re liking the taste of the freshly cut grass.