I Got Got

She got me, yeah I said it,

She has me getting lost in my poetry because that’s when I find her,

Run my fingers through words to caress each of her syllables,

Become fluent in her body language,

Limb to limb linguistics,

She taunts me,

unravels me,

Carves her name so perfectly into the skin of my poems,

decorating it with characteristics she withholds,

She is art,

Art unfolding illustrating my sinful thoughts seductively

and that’s why I take her home,

and get lost in her once again,

Experience the smile she wears

as I aspire to deconstruct the mysteries that make up her,

The definition of freedom exists in the moments I witness her beauty before me,

I dare to catch the light in her dark brown pools as

sweet vowels and consonants roll off her tongue forming

my name…

I deeply drink her in, staining my tongue with memories of her,

Self control crumbling as the slick combination of our chemistry pours into me slowly,

Spine weakens,

static clings to my fingertips as they long to conform to the contours of her,

sink into her solid hips

pluck at the strings of her sensuality,

kiss her lips and be profound,

immerse in her flesh,

feel her trembles in the dark,

inhale her every moan and motion and drown in pleasure,

she got me I said,

she is about to make me lose my insanity as

moonlight plays its musical keys on her skin stroking to the rhythm of her dreams,

I watch her wrapped in these words alone,

her whispers slide down my neck,

settles just at the collarbone leaving me musing

for her kiss,

The Self Mutilation We Call Love

I dig into the sun to paint you into this poem

because I couldn’t think of any other proper form of ink

than the one that gives life.

Lately I’ve been sipping on broken hearts,

Collecting silver linings,

Trying to get a hold on this mess of a heart that I have slowly

sewn into this work of art,

Every now and then, I keep my hurt in my pocket like spare change,

hoping I could give it away little by little to anyone I came in contact with.

You see, I crave your closeness but apparently I’m unreliable and inconsistent,

because sometimes I needed you, and other times I wanted you,

and even today sometimes I still need you.

Why would you ever want to leave when we found shelter wherever we lay,

Did you not hear the rhythm of my heartbeat beat differently around you?

Or did I not recognize that I held myself in too tight and didn’t allow enough of you in?

I told you I love you not expecting to bring you back,

I told you I love you because you live in the delusional crevices of my mind,

sending shockwaves into my soul,

and I just needed some form of peace from that piece of your love,

I told you because I was ignorant to how naïve I was before

in lying to myself that I didn’t love you,

I told you because I didn’t know where else to put my love

for you,

because there you are, as always, your silhouette in cursive appearing in every line of my every word.

I told you because my love toxicity was too high to function and you have ways of stirring me into an emotional wreck,

so badly,

that lately I’ve asked myself how can I make myself feeeel better?

So I’ve been cuddling up with serpents hoping with the lights turned off I could feel a little bit closer to you,

I would strip vocal cords from someone else in hopes their high notes would dip into me like yours did,

Hoping that being too blind and too drunk to perception I wouldn’t come to realize that it’s not you…

I told you I love you today because I never had the chance to wake up and tell you sweetly, picture perfect, what’s been the truth all along….

Bottomless Pockets

I am a sell out to your love.

I remember me when I hear you,

I can’t escape or pretend that you’re not intertwined with my insanity.

You have me wishing on orphan eyelashes, picking petals off broken flowers,

 gambling coins in wishing wells, conversing with shooting stars.

I have lost count of how many different ways you have found to destroy me.

I’ve always appear to have the ability to learn to pull myself together...just enough,

But there on my skin, I found a leftover kiss of yours…waiting,

I read your messages, your poems, and your letters and cross reference them to the slight rips in me,

honest,

I wonder what your bed feels like when she lays in it.

I remember the days we hid away from our responsibilities,

Long days we spent broke but not broken,

Matching breaths as we fell asleep,

We loved hard,

Our love was absurd,

naive,

and lethal,

it was so damn beautiful,

I knew love when it made me want to do it better!

If I had known that was our last kiss,

I would had tattooed my poetry on to your lips,

So that if you were to lay them on to anyone else they would recognize my presence.

If I had known I would never enter your heart again I would have imperfectly sang

‘I love you’ to you because love is found in that soft hesitation before the confession,

But our love shifted like fall’s falling leaves,

I heard the unhappiness in your voice and denial in mine,

You asked me to love you without saying a word

 and all I could say was take it slow,

Take your time. I’m not there yet…

because once I love

my love is bottomless pockets but because you tried to weigh it’s worth

it wasn’t enough for you…