Infinite sensations on an endless path, the greatest feeling I wanted to last.
The deepest passion, in the darkest of ways, I brought her to her threshold of pain.
An overwhelming intensity like the deepest ocean so vast, often over far too fast.
Being inside her, feeling her light, embracing her until the start of my refrain.
As we reach the zenith, that moment in time, where she begins to realize, her pleasure is mine.
So while assumptions of two ships on their individual courses, caring little to please the other,
Is actually his inner desire, devoted entirely to her inner delight for as long as she designs.
But as stars disappear and light forces dark to find cover, I realizes I am not yet her lover.
I search for a meaning, a reason, or a sign, that will give me a clue as to the reason for this fate,
Although we merely spent a cycle of the moon, your beauty yet controls me, and makes of me the fool.
But the sun is always shining, greeting your face, as you turn away waving at a quickening rate.
And in the cool of the morning, and like in an out matched duel, she leaves behind the jewel.
   Nevertheless, in the wisest judgment, one can hardly blame her for her barbarous display,
   For she kept the secret, a pivotal point to say, she had another lover, I was merely for the day.

Sometimes I think of you.
I think of you showing up at my house
in the middle of a snowstorm
with white roses,
hot cheetos,
High School Musical 3,
and your favorite sweater.
And you'd knock on my door
and I'd come running
and I'd open it up,
and there you would be.
You'd smile at me and whisper,
"I'm so sorry.
I made a mistake.
Please forgive me."
And,
because I love you,
I'd nod
and let you in.
We'd cuddle on the couch,
our bodies tangled in each other,
and we'd whisper,
"I love you."

Sometimes I think of you doing this.
Sometimes I believe that you are planning this.

But,
I don't know,
maybe I'm wishing for a Christmas miracle.
And,
we all know miracles don't exist.

Good dogs,
always panting towards the sun.
The lapping tongues that break;
the mirror of the lake.
The picture of your face,
rolling and broken on its surface,
like I always knew you were.

Here, over the crisp of morning grass.
Here, under the silk of morning skies.
Here, in-between the thighs of time swaying.
Here, we find the dawn, or tomorrow,
now, wrapped together,
in the sweet must of old wool
and fresh sweat rubbing together.
Now like the gap between the second hand settling,
as brief as hummingbird wing beats,
it all rises in front of us,
awake in the warmth of the sun.

Good dogs,
always panting towards the break.
The lapping tongues at dawn;
the mirror of  lake.
The shaken picture of your face,
smiling and open on its surface,
like I always knew you were.

I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.

we sang along to Joy Division
and listened to Ian Curtis' voice
spell out the truths of love and life
too afraid to listen
so we smoked a bit more

we got high
very high
we couldn't walk in straight lines
you said your legs were like lava
so we hid away in each others' embrace

he said love will tear us apart
he was right
but I never expected it to be
as blissful as this

As a child I was taught poetry
the quiet writing of feelings reflections
often in a beat with a rhyme and a few examples of alliteration

I was taught that as a woman my feelings
should be hid and kept quiet
that when I liked a boy it was not my place
to ask him whether he liked me back
I was taught to look out for myself by not dressing slutty
not walking home late at night
I was taught that my curvy figure would make people
question my morals my virginity my character
I was taught that as a girl I won't be as successful in math or science
I was taught to give myself to other pursuits
in liberal arts or domestic dealings
I was taught that even if by some miracle I found success in the fields where I "wouldn't be successful"
that I would and should give it up in a heart beat to raise a family
I was taught that I must share my feelings
my emotions my struggles
but not in a loud and open way

I had to remain quiet cool composed

Poetry was to be my outlet, written in couplets sonnets and verse
quiet and held inside written on paper
stored away from the world
to be read inside the mind
by others- men, teachers, parents
in order to decode me
and learn how to
keep
me

silent

i must confess something that neither my parents nor my psychiatrist knows. one of the most important moments of my life that i have been too afraid to even speak aloud about. the darkest yet most positive instance, the turning point on my road to self ruin.
i was fed up with life, but that was nothing new. i had given up on people long ago, decided to go detached from anything and everything because losing them was inevitable. and overwhelmingly painful.
i swallowed a total of eighteen pills. there was no trigger to this suicide attempt, i was just following through on a decision i had made long ago. at first i was upset because it wasn't working. i was still conscious.  i was still alive.
then they hit like a ton of bricks. waves shook my body so hard that i collapsed onto my bedroom floor. the weight of the pills was pulling my body to the ground. anchored down, unable to even lift a finger. the world was spinning and pulsing, my body covered in a cold sweat.
it was the most beautiful moment of my life. why?

because for once in my life, i was scared of death. for once in my life, i wanted to hold onto my life. in those numbing hours, i could feel my life slipping out of my fingertips and i wanted so desperately to hold on. i couldn't even call out for help.

that was the moment i decided that i wanted to live.