there is too much to think,
and I don’t have the right words to write them.
all I want is a large bed and sunlight,
and a million hours to spend with you.
we stand around like we have loaded guns, rotating out spines so we can see it all, take it all in, take me to the top of the highest buildings and make love to me, promise you’ll tell me no secrets.
I don’t care,
I’m just cold.
I would never get tired of shining as bright as you,
said the little star to the big.
Be careful what you wish for, child,
said the big to the little,
It doesn’t matter if you’re beautiful,
It never feels good when they point their fingers at you.
Their greedy, chubby, little fingers- they can’t just look, they’ve gotta touch.
If they can’t touch, they still gotta try.
it doesn’t matter where it starts, if it never ends.
it doesn’t matter where you’re going, if you’re not going to get there anyway.
it doesn’t matter how i’m doing, as long as i’m laughing.
it doesn’t matter if you’re worried, unless you keep your promise
and catch a plane to San Francisco
and set everything on fire.
I wish you could feel more than my heart beating in my chest when your hands overwhelm my breasts by their sweetness. In slumber, I dream that you can feel so much more than that, you massage my throat from the inside as your hands make their way to my heart, a tiny fist shaking, keeping alive by angering blood so that it paces, unable to keep still in its frustration-
and you can feel the way that I love you, with hesitation and a confidence that’s only just begun growing. and you can feel my longing, for fresh air and sunlight and whispered secrets in the dead of night and things I have yet to put a name to, and you can touch, just barely reach, those deep corners where I’ve hidden so much away, so much to forget but even when I do it’s still there, it’s always there.
I wish you could feel inside of me those things that I try to articulate- how badly I want you to be someone I could love, how badly I want to be
someone that I could love.
and I wish you could hear the rhythms that keep me alive, and I wish you could see the monsters that keep me up each night, in my dreams you pick them up one by one to push them up my throat, when I start to gag you kiss me and take them, one by one, into you, it’s as if you’re trying to say your monsters are my monsters too but you’re quick to spit them out and stomp on them like spiders, they’d be no good to you either.
Sometimes, I wake from these dreams with tears dried under my eyes, this happened to me all the time as a child. If you’re next to me I press my body onto yours and spread my fingers across your skin- if you’re not I pop a couple more pills
and proceed to fight the monsters off until daylight.
sometimes tonight, randomly, so ramdomly,
I would imagine our kiss-
it was only about an hour ago,
maybe or so;
and it sent shivers up and down my spine.
Just wanted you to know…
okay, there was something about toilet paper,
and how you walk and drunk phone calls
something I’m not exactly remembering..
Something about exhaling a goodnight kiss
but it sounded perfect.
Sometimes, things just do
when you’re drunk, and high.
You swear that you’ll remember them,
but it’s never quite how it sounded, at the time.
(Probably because,
you’re drunk,
and high.)