I woke up. it was Sunday morning and the air was cool. I wanted to move but the air seemed heavy and soft.
So I laid in bed for a while. I wanted to rest my spine.

the air feels warm as I move into the upstairs living room. I sit in the rocking chair and deep breathe.
I will go downstairs. But I wanted to rest my spine.

I made my way to the stairs when I heard arguing. The kids were in the car and my mom and papa were arguing about something.
I didn't go downstairs, so I sat down and continued to rest my spine.

The door slammed. I got a text from µˆ˚´ . I replied and looked out the window. My mom got out shortly after.
I wanted some coffee while I rested my spine.
my breathing is quiet and deep. my lungs are full of the strange haze and my stomach is aching.
I made some toast with my coffee and sat down at the dining room table,
so I could rest my spine.

The door burst open. I set down my coffee.
my father walked in and the air got slightly colder,
"the family is gone for five minutes and that's when she gets up."
I looked at him and said words. He slammed the door to his bedroom. I sipped my coffee again and held it to feel some semblance of warmth.
I continued to rest my spine.
He came out of his room and slammed his door again. He went through the others to leave and slammed those too.  
He got in his car and left. I watched through the big window and laid down in my chair so he couldn't see me exist.
I rested there with my spine.

Stand alone
scratching the spine
of my open book.
I alone
touch this book
manipulate the spine.
They warn of the bright outside
When I see only dark

the touch of someone's skin on another's
has been written about plenty already
but I swear to you
his touch is like no other
so innocent and fragile
but commanding and strong
yet gentle and caring
while he bites me all along
the sting and the numbness
the tickle of his tongue
his touch is like no other
so right though so wrong
all my softness in his clutch
his being needs no guide
he knows where and how to touch
as his eager mouth finds mine
his tracing fingertips bring chills
up my chilly and bare spine
his touch is one that nearly kills
but I am on cloud nine

My paper
ached to feel stories of you
on its pages

yearned to taste the adventures
you had with my heart with every
curve of a letter

and craved to vicariously
enjoy the pressures of pleasures
on it's blank slate
every time
you trace bedtimes
stories up and
down my spine

Blood drips,
            oozes,
                      In lurid globes
Down the shadowed folds of heavy velvet.
            cloying stench,
                      shattered china.

Your spine is twisted under stretched yellow skin,
Disjointed vertebrae break through, glinting white.
Your lost words heavy on your tongue,
Ringing in my ears.
Every villain believes
   they are a hero dear.
         even me.

Every time it rains and I'm walking I
Step into a puddle, leaving my socks wet.
Every time this happens, I don't mind. I don't
Regret it, despite my feet being cold.
Even though it's not the greatest feeling, I'm
Happy to have stepped in this puddle. And
This time, my feet may never get dry.

A rhythm forever pulsing
Beating
Flowing
Melting
Through fingertips
Through the spine
Through the very fibers
Of the mind
Time
I’m forever chasing
Hunting
Searching
For more
Just a fragment
A taste
A stitch
Cause to find
Where yours and mine
Intertwine