I don't know if*
   I'm ready to fall in love with
   the boy who makes sunshine
   on rainy days, and is the best part
   of the great days.
   Whose hugs feel like safety, and
   kisses like heaven.
   That's not to say he's innocent,
   because there's no hell like the
   burn I feel when he's between
   my legs, and his hips are on mine.
In the grey sky dawn of a Tuesday,
   the one patch of sunlight
   between my shuttered window
   hits the roses perched by my
   bedside, and I wonder if
   the boy made of stardust, and
   chocolate, and soft touches
   should be mine,
   because I'm falling apart,
   and coming back together
trying not to love him too.

They always said your first will be the hardest, and boy weren't they lying. The feeling of opening up to someone, letting them see you as a whole. Seeing you with no clothes on, cuddling, becoming one. Giving that person your all, more than just making love, but deeper than love. As the feelings spill out with each kiss, and each touch, you feel the pain, as his fingertips touch and hold your hips. Because he isn't the one. You feel the pain, as those kisses get to your heart, and your eyes start to water. There's no such thing as your mind knowing what's best, because your heart knows more than the rest. But this man is your first, so hard to walk away. But why? Lord why? Why is this feeling so invading? He looks at you, and smile, knowing this smile is so untrue, nothing but a piece of your beauty, that's all that it took, to make him say I love you, until he got what he looked. He changed his ways, it became more distance, you tried to fix it. Not realizing that you are only hurting yourself, you denied it. Wanted to make it work, so those feelings inside, you fought them, why? Was it really that worth it? Was it really because you loved him? Or was it because you was too scared to walk away, because you felt like as if it would hurt him? Did he care? Only when he smashed though..
Was he there? Only when he smashed though..
Did he make you cry? Yeah.
Did he care? No.
So why were you there? I don't know..
Were you happy? Could I have been?
No..
Was this just ***?
Was this just his way of getting what he wanted so no other can have it?
Selfish.
They say your first is hard to walk away from,
But when walking away makes you stronger
You start regretting the moment, you let that boy in.

Enough said..

She was a walking paradox
in a pair of Doc’s.

© Matthew Harlovic

As distant as clouds
As cold as the pouring rain
Caged her heart again

In Florida sometimes it rains so hard
that you believe that it can't possibly stop,
that it will just rain and rain forever.

Sometimes I'd wake to a storm late at night,
and I'd sit out on the porch.

You could smell the lightning, and the coolness of the storm would
make your hair stand;
I'd feel so alive.

Some nights I'd go out, and my father
would be sitting on the porch already.
Lost in the storm
or maybe
called to it.
We wouldn't talk,
but we'd be lost together
in the rain and thunder.

Sometimes I wonder what of him
is left in me.
I am not sure
if I am more afraid of there being
very little
or of there being a great deal,
but when it rains
I think about him on that porch;

his hands trailed down my body like november rain
slow and steady, with purpose, with passion
and before my body knew how to react, we were one.

my heart swells in my chest.
i'd craved this for so long.
i rarely pray

but in this situation i mutter of deities,
breathless, i praise a god i don't believe in
and treat pleasure like religion.