misthoughts;;

I.
You will call him at 1 AM in hysterics, because the world is too big and you are too small. He won’t know what you mean, but when you say “talk to me,” he’ll talk until you stop crying. When you fall asleep, he’ll keep talking just to make sure. When you wake up again 3 hours later you’ll see your phone lying next to you, still connected even though he has also fallen asleep.

II.
He’ll go buy groceries without you asking, but because you’re in a bad mood and skim milk sucks you’ll tell him that. He’ll go back and by the exact organic whole milk Vitamin-D fortified brand you’re so picky about without you even asking. He won’t complain. He knows you for you.

III.
On those difficult days where you have to say goodbye again, he’ll hold it together so you can fall apart. He’ll let you cry into his chest, and then he’ll leave you his shirt and you will wear it when you go to bed at night. He’ll call you as soon as he’s back home, to tell you: “my home is where you are.” Even if that home is hundreds of miles apart.

IV.
When someone very close to you puts a gun to their chest and pulls the trigger, he’ll wrap his arms so tight around you and whisper into your ear to drown out your own mind. He’ll take you to the grocery store, and buy you swedish fish and beef jerky and rent three DVDs in case the first one isn’t good enough or funny enough or sad enough. He’ll understand when you don’t shower for three days. When you can’t stop crying. He’ll tell you you’re beautiful anyway.

This is how you know that he just might love you.

“How much more?” he asked her.
“About twenty more pages.” She threw him a half smile, careless.

Damn, she was irresistible. She was on her stomach, sprawled carelessly across the bed with tip of her tongue casually pinched between her pursed lips, fully absorbed in the text. Her feet moved playfully as she read, making him blatantly aware of the fact that she was wearing nothing but a worn cotton t-shirt and lace panties.

He couldn’t help himself, he reached out, letting a finger trail up from the back of her knee to the soft inner part of her thigh.

“fifteen pages now,” she said emphatically, smiling bemusedly at him over her shoulder.

Two fingers now, he traced the seam of her underwear. She furrowed her brow, trying to keep reading, but he could see the hint of her smile through her concentration. His fingers kept tracing. Her eyelids fluttered briefly, and he watched her refocus on the words in front of her.

“Don’t mind me, go on, finish the book.” She always loved a good challenge.

He slid his fingers up to her waist, saw her head tip back towards him ever so slightly. She turned the page with shaky fingers. He straddled her from behind, smoothly sliding his hands down. Cupping her ass firmly in both hands. He watched the goose bumps form on her skin, planted a firm kiss on the back of her neck.

He continued kissing her neck, his hot breath tingling against her skin. He caught her earlobe in his mouth and sucked. She wasn’t reading anymore. Though she clutched the book in her hands, her eyes were closed. Her knuckles turning white on the pages as she clenched to maintain control.

Slipping his hands around the front of her body, he felt her nipples harden through the thin cotton. He pinched them gently at first, through the fabric, then with increasing intensity until he could hear her breathing quicken. The book slipped out of her hands. She didn’t seem to notice.

His finger dipped beneath the lace of underwear and she felt her breath catch in her throat. She was so wet. He felt himself harden almost instantly. He flipped her over, his hands pinning her to the bed. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes, and he kissed her deeply. Lifting her shirt, his tongue began tracing circles around her eager nipples. A moan escaped her lips.

As she intwined her fingers in his hair, he slid his mouth down her body. He deftly removed her panties, and began tracing her clit with his full tongue.

“Oh god, Oh, goddd!” Her breathing was heavy, rapid. He pushed a finger into her wetness, then two. Moans escaped her with every breath.

With the last of her self control, she pulled his mouth away from her and brought his face close to hers. Her eyes burning into his.

“Fuck me.”

He moved on top of her, letting the head of his cock feel the wetness that he had induced in her. Letting her tense in anticipation. Then in one swift movement he plunged into her, filling her, causing her breath to rush out in a desperate gasp. He fucked her, feeling every inch of her, kissing her boldly, until he felt her muscles contract and her body writhe against him.

Once he felt her satisfaction, and saw it in her eyes, he allowed himself to move even quicker and deeper until he couldn’t hold back a second longer. As her nails raked up his back, he came deeply and forcefully in her tight little pussy.

He drew her close to him, kissed her forehead, as she snuggled up into his loving arms.

Her textbook fell to the floor with a forgettable thud.

nothing’s better than you
and summertime
a half-empty handle
of lemon and lime

bring me over closer
push your hips in to mine
kiss me like the first
and bittersweet last time

twist your hands in my hair
push me down on the grass
press your teeth to my neck
cup your hands over my ass

muffled in darkness
is it dew or is it sweat
trace my heat with your tongue
sighing, oh how i’m wet

fuck me beneath starlight
let the moon be our witness
hold me ‘til the sunrise
let tonight be without limit

whisper when the daylight comes
let your body speak in earnest
keep me pressed up close to you
and let me make this promise:

i’ll love you when the days get cold
i’ll love you when the night seems old
i’ll love you between rights and wrongs
i’ll love you always, all along.

the sky goes on in grey for days
and I don’t know when I started measuring distance in time
but its essentially the same thing,
if you think about it

I don’t know when I started counting down, instead of forward
three days, baby. 72 hours but
so many miles and I’ll be walking in your front door
and everything will smell like cinnamon

I’ll bury my face
into your clean, soft neck
and breathe you in
as if it’s my first breath
as if I’ll never breathe again

you might think that life is decay
or aging
but
I’m here to tell you that its a circle.
its like when I was a child
and I thought that people on the other side of the world
were perpetually living life upside down
but really
the direction of their lives was no different than mine
so when you think you’re upright
or not right
its all about how you define yourself
in space and in time.
and when you think that existence is all about some
start
or some end,
think instead that life is like a circle or a sphere and
yeah, we’re anchored to that point
in the center
but we choose everything in-between
don’t think that you lose value
because someday you’ll melt back into the earth that you crawled out of
don’t think that time passing means you’re dying
we go from form to form
from earth to earth
I don’t believe in god
but I believe in cycles and unity
and value in repetition
and no matter which way you’re facing
you can always be looking up.

I wish I could ease the pain that flows in and out of you
I wish I could be your watershed
I’d do that for you
Through the gorges
Through the valleys
Sometimes water flows uphill
Sometimes trees grow for you
I see beauty in your oxbows
Because the Straight and Narrow
Was never meant for us two

Cities sit below sea level
So no wonder that
Dams break
Lives flood
Tides ebb and pain does, too

Right now
I live upstream
But someday so will you

I find little pieces of you when I breathe in the pages of an old book
and
I see your soul. It is trapped in the sloping lines of your handwriting
when you write
new love on ancient paper
for
me.

I’ve been saving up for you,
putting pennies in my chest like hope for you.
I’ve been holding out for you,
with cold hands but a warm heart
I’ve been dying to tell you.
I’m surprised
the words haven’t come out yet,
with every exhale,
I breathe it.
I want you,
almost need you.
Patience.
Patience
is a virtue,
but not when
I love you.

This is for the girls who send naked pictures with their faces showing,
For the girls who’ve trained themselves to laugh off catcalls
And lewd comments, ‘cause its not worth the aggravation anyway.

This is for the girls who have been told that they are not enough
That they are not strong
That they are not beautiful
That they are not powerful
This is for the girls that have believed it.

This is for the girls who have left the nice guys for the wrong guys
And this is for the girls who treat sex like therapy
And act as if they can’t feel what their body does.

This is for the girls who wake up to the word ‘slut’
And fall asleep with it still burned into their eyelids.
This is for the girls who can shake off abusive words and hands,
And this is for the girls who think they deserve it.

This is for the girls crushed into submission:
Leave.
Run.
Never go back.
He will not find you, he does not love you.
Love is not black and blue and four-letter words.

This is for the girls who still believe.
This is for the girls who still can hope.
This is for every girl still breathing,
And in memoriam of every one that isn’t.

This is for the girls who fall in love, and leave anyway.

what do you do when one day you wake up
and realize that you are the claws
in the back of the person you love most
that you are the one whose shackles
and heavy tethers
keep their stolen heart
in the depths of your chest?
I am not sorry for the things I am.
I’m everything you think you’ve ever wanted
and nothing like what you deserve.

I just want you to know that my ribcage is on hinges
and its not your fault that you blew in with the wind.

When I found your toothbrush in the cubby by the sink last night I pressed it to my lips and thought of kissing you. My lungs contracted when I found a shadow of you in my closet. I picked it up and put it on, along with the lonely smile I’ll wear for the next five months. How long until your button-downs stop smelling like you? This place is a museum and I’m constantly looking for more artifacts. I can’t let you go extinct. I want to breathe in all the gentle sweet smells you’ve left behind, but what happens when I run out of air? What happens when I run out of little pieces of you? I wish that I hadn’t washed the sheets from the last time we had sex. I wish that I’d never stopped holding you. I wish I was better at spooning and foreplay and mainly commitment. I wish that when I’d wake up miles would mean nothing. And then my heart could settle back into the gap in my chest and you’d press into me like a four-letter word or the syllables in my first name.

everything looks golden
looking back
to when I was so small
everything looked big.
and you sit tight
in the concave of my stomach
with butterfly memories
and june-bug sundays
with the ivy
climbing old, stone farmhouse walls

those were the days
when the air felt close together
there was always enough to breathe
and it was never so cold
that my mouth started to taste like cherry lollipops
eaten alone in the dark.

now when I listen closely you sound like
stars crashing nights falling
august settling fireflies playing
skinny-dipping in the creek
and I can’t believe
you made it all these years with me.

sometimes when I’m too lazy to wash my dishes
I just put them back in the fridge
with the rest of the leftovers
and left-behinds

and two nights ago I thought that missing you
would be different
but the nights all feel the same

and this time I can’t quite shake the cold
all the way out of my bones or out of my hair
and I think you feel similarly

but I’ve stopped believing in ‘too lates’ and ‘too longs’ and
maybe even ‘too fars’

and the ice cream dish we both ate from
is still firmly planted on the top left shelf of the fridge
until you return.

I found my last breath of the day
between your lips
watched the clocks on the wall
change hours, change days

I pushed my heart
under your skin
into your ribs
into the pit of your stomach

and I hope you’re happy
with me there.

can you feel my sternum
and ribs breaking open
to be with you?

this isn’t pain
this is flying
I’ll open like a locket
and you’ll never let me go.

I built you up in pieces,
The same way I’d tear you down.
Your ears were peeled for screaming,
But breaking hearts don’t make a sound.