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To feel the heaviness of love lying next to you, the rumble of snoring in your ear that keeps you awake until the sun peaks the horizon, the crash-and-bang of a heartbeat foreign to your own. These sounds are nowhere near as deafening as an empty pillow, the echoes of your own breath off the wall, the glass shattering in your chest where a heart once was.
Likewise; the soft touch of fabric on a pillow cannot compare to the flames that dance on your cheeks and tickle my palms.
This hollowness inside me can only be filled by the drums in your chest, the thunder in my ear, the weight of your body next to me.
Lay with me, my love.
Until the weight of our bodies cause the walls to collapse… until the storms shake the earth apart… until our hearts beat in time to rebuild what is broken.


Ohio…

6/26/2015


I thought about you the other day
I took this silly online quiz,
“What state should you have been from?”
I got Ohio.
Tears stung my eyes,
and knives pierced my chest.
It has been so long since you have crossed my mind.
Please do not think I have forgotten you.
You are still my hopes and dreams.
Everything I want for my future…
…revolves around you.
I miss you so…
What I would give to hold your face in my hands…
…to kiss you and know I have found my forever.
I will wait.
I will go back to my life and wait.
A hundred more years if I have to.
I will go back to my bed and feel every inch of him surround me.
Until it is your turn.


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I love you in the way the sun kisses the edges of the
clouds in the morning. The way the steam rises from my coffee
and curls at the end of my nose. The way my hair will split in
two, sometimes three ways at the ends. With hopes that,
in just one of these ways, it is a language you understand.
A whisper that tickles the hairs
on the back of your neck.


Sunflower

“What five things would you put into a pentagram to summon me?”

“A sunflower, a tie-dye sock, a ball of cat hair, a dictionary, and a hair clip.”

“A sunflower? Why a sunflower?”

“Because everything about you makes me think of a sunflower, you need to wear yellow more often. We need to get you a yellow sun dress.”

Fire Heart

Flames shoot out of his body
from all angles,
but, where it matters most
he is soft and warm,
his eyes,
lips,
and fingertips.
Passerby beware.
Some say he resembles metal after a long rain.
I disagree.
His beauty is unique,
so much so that most cannot hope to appreciate it.
Though, I see it each morning,
each eve,
each time I close my eyes and wish to see something more magnificent than what is before me.
He transforms into something more than my heart could have ever hoped for.
Flames that burn the heart.

I want…

I want to bury my face into the nape of your neck.
I want your scent and your kisses to envelope me.
I want the only sound for miles to be our heart beats.
I want the only feeling to be our fingers entwined together.
I want to watch the street light bounce off your shoulder.
I want to press my lips to your temple as you doze.
I want to fall asleep there, your hand on my hip and your breath on my hair.
I want there to be no space between our bodies except that which we need to breathe.
I want to spend the mornings waking to your sweet sleepy cuddles.
I want to watch you stretch and flinch away from the sun.
I want to kiss your tired lips and know that this is my forever.

Thinking Destructively

What would you be doing if you weren’t doing this?

If I were not sitting here, staring at the luminance that is my MacBook screen, tapping away at my keyboard fighting back tears…
I would be staring at a smaller screen, my blue eyes fuzzy with emotions.
My hands would be shaking with frustration.
My eyes would be red with hurt.
My heart would be pounding hard in my chest.
My head would be swirling, a hurricane.
My nails would be digging into my palms.
My lungs would be heaving.
My throat would be shouting.

I would be waiting. For you to pick up the phone and whisper those six words…

I’m sorry, baby, I love you… 

 

I love you, Thomas.
I really do.
More than you could possibly imagine.
That’s why I get hurt.
That’s why I get angry.
That’s why I…