I wonder what the first thing you touched was

When you escaped the womb

Besides your mother and father

Any other family members

Doctors and other trinkets that assist

Or are given in the hospital



What was the first thing you laid your hands on with intent

Before me

A piece of a butterfly wing

Your new soft Teddy

Glow in the dark star

Newly found birth-mark



I wonder what you have seen

Before you saw me

That has made your heart, your eyes, your skeletal composition,

your tremendous amount of insides

Flutter

Go off balance



New toy that’s on the market

A train set

The cute girl in your first grade class

That you couldn’t talk to normally

So instead

You teased her



What have you heard

That harmonized with your soul

Your ghost, your physical form

Before your left ear

Caught a trickle of my sigh

Soon my voice that would follow



A gentle lullaby

Your mother used to sing to you at night

Your favorite song

I can no longer remember the name of

I just know it went

“You are my peach, you are my plum”



What have you smelt

That is your aroma therapy

Or was

Besides my conditioner

And shampoo

My old lady perfume



Was it your own soap

A pastry baking in the oven

Or was it something I find foul

Like mushrooms, maybe

A scented candle

An old Grand Piano



I wonder what you thought

When you found out you loved me

Did it bring attention to all five of your senses

Which one is your strongest

Obviously it is not your sense of taste

Otherwise you’d love me more than her saliva

With ink stained fingers this happiness swells
Like a ripe peach on a summer day

six string serenade
she smiled
she played
as her fingers bled

cool blue in shadow
a memory flees
caught sipping China tea
all the way from Spain

if I call
on a phone
hung on a wall
can I call
in all my memories
of tomorrow
. . . collect

(follow anybody , every grain of sand has destiny . . . and a duty . . . every single separate , meaningless , grain . . . of futility)

To me, you're like a rotten peach.
Once good, now bad-though you still looked fine on the outside.
Just a few marks here and there,
A scratch or two,
No harm done.
I was happy with you-happy to have you in my life.
Then,
You turned out to be ****-bitter and rotten on the inside.
Such a ****** disappointment

He asks, "define emotion?"

In my own state of carelessness,
I give him the answer he never wanted

Happiness, is driving 115 in a 65 MPH zone
Not caring,
Because a part of you wants to die young anyways
A part of you is dead already
But that is your secret
And no one needs to know,
All the aspects that you will never show.

Desperation, is the feel of a sharp knife,
Gliding against ****** skin like an experienced lover
Giving release without slicing too deep.
A smear,
A mark,
A badge of ******* honor
Because you flirted with death and made it out alive.

Stupidity,  is the freedom found at 16
Driving through a coastal city
As the first cold front shimmies it's way through the trees  
Illegally smoking cigarettes
With a half bottle of ***** rolling around underneath the seat
It was always *****,
It just had to be

Pleasure begins in a clever little pill
It was almost too much,
Sublime in nature....
Dangerous in reality
But it made you feel good
And for once
Everything was ok

Reality is the writing of my transgressions
Like I haven't a care in the world who reads them.  

I'm flawed...
Why is this such a surprise to you?

© 2014 Peach

Like a summer peach
you tasted so sweet
I bit into you harder
so you wouldn't feel the ache
but deep beneath the pain
and all of the regret
was a deep and rotten pit
and you wouldn't grow again

Hard and strong
like an oak
with withered branches
and dying leaves
you climb at first with ease
but closer to the top
your limbs start to fall away
and as you reach the top
a sad heart lies still.