Sunday, June 24, 2012

alternatives

i have stopped writing.
because he is mine. it's really quite simple.
i don't feel the need
to undress my feelings
and cry because i can't fix
things.
when he is inside me
and his musky, earthy, dewy smell
complements and calms
my ferociously roaring pride,
there is the place
i always ever want to be.
i am molding my body
to fit in his hands
i am molding my thoughts
to make room in his heart
i am molding my demons
to melt from his gaze.
it is (so far) an
extraordinary journey
of self-realization and
worth.
and i want it to stay that way.
so i have stopped writing.
because
i have hidden him in the many-colored layers of my self
so when people look in from the outside
they see only love.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

cartwheels

it must
be tear
able
to know that
you are not
the one