I Am Forgetting Your Blue Eyes
I am reaching out you in hours of blanketed solitude.
As if I am nothing more than a puppet mourning my cut strings.
But I’m not asking for the strings.
I don’t even want the strings.
I’m only asking for the hands.
You are convinced I need so much more,
Do you think I seek direction from you?
You human cloaked in God-like complex.
Like you are something I wish to tattoo.
Like you are anything more than a beautiful set of hands
I want to touch my hollowed out body,
a marionette who spins madly.
It’s quite simple,
I’m just looking for you to touch me.
I’ll kiss him until my tongue forgets your name.
He’ll bite my lip,
and I’ll say,
“Don’t be sorry.”
And continue bleeding your face.
Old Habits Die Hard
I have never smoked a single cigarette,
but I wear you on my skin like a nicotine patch.
Kiss me under the persimmon tree and tell me this is how we stay.
Tell me this is how we find ourselves again.
That we taste like fruits and permanence.
That we finally figured it out.
You Are Still Important To Me
It is a truth I should shy away from,
one that is an embarrassingly long secret I have held within my chest.
It has always been you.