I melt at his touch whenever he slips the shoes from my feet...among other clothing items.
He makes my skin green with greed for every inch of him.
He's a tall glass of water, and all I want to do is submerge myself. But when I pour myself into him, I never sink. He always floats me.
Guess I've failed the witch trials.
Boney Ringed Fingers (Limerick XVI)
A horseman who'd long lost his head,
married his lover undead.
Skin-less hands interwoven,
They affirmed their devotion.
Chivalry lives, but its harbringer's dead.
I'm not sure whether my friend is dead or alive.
They called me six months ago...it was one of those calls where you have to negotiate the blade out of their hands. It was like trying to put all these puzzle pieces back together at once, but halfway though you realize that you're also a puzzle, and your pieces are falling apart too, and you have to choose who gets to remain whole. It was hell.
I called the police.
I haven't talked to them since.
Nights like this, it's really hard to sleep. I'm shaking too violently to keep my pieces together.
I almost barfed on my date last night. Clenched teeth, adoration bubbling at my lips, I nearly upchucked my affections, his suit dripping with the words stuck in my throat.
Some first month days with C that I want to remember, for better or worse
Wednesday, June 30
First date mwahahahaha. I made you dress business casual because I was meeting you at the capitol directly after work. You wore khaki shorts and a blue collared shirt. Dare I say, I looked much more business casual than you. Talking to you was as easy as breathing.
Friday, July 2 (Morning)
You left handpicked flowers for me at work, and I freaked out because nobody I've ever dated has been so kind to me. I thought you might be a stalker.
Friday, July 2 (Evening)
I learned you were the worst kisser ever. Blarg. You picked me up after work, bought me DQ, and then we went to an overlook to watch the little city lights. Cuddling across the bench of you truck, I tilted my head back, and you proceeded to assault my mouth with your tongue. We watched the stars, and when you took me home I told you it wasn't going to work out.
Saturday, July 3
I caved in under 12 hours and told you that I still wanted to watch Independence Day fireworks together, with the promise that I'd pick you up and bring snacks containing the word "pop." Poprocks, popcorn, popsicles, soda pop.
Sunday, July 4
I only brought the poprocks, but tried to make up for it with Caprisuns, apple slices, Cheese Its, and Kit Kats. You lifted me over the fence at a baseball field outside of town, and we watched fireworks, cop cars, and kids with glow sticks. I let you kiss me again, and decided I could teach you how to be a better kisser.
Monday, July 5
You terrified me. Came over for dinner, played cards, rubbed my feet. When I let you into my bedroom to watch a movie, you kept...pushing. For more. I walked you out. We sat on your motorcycle and I told you no again.
Tuesday, July 6
I called you and told you no for real. You left a "No" buzzer for me at work.
Thursday, July 8
You cracked and started sending me memes over Instagram again. Asked me to go to the car show with you.
Saturday, July 10 (Morning)
You looked so funny, crazily wandering around the show, admiring the cars from every angle. I couldn't help but grab your hand and invite you to the concert I had planned to attend that night.
Saturday, July 10 (Evening)
You picked me up on the bike, and I held onto you for dear life going 30 mph. The music was fine. Dancing with you was better. Riding to the lake to stargaze with you was exciting. The way you tangled your hands in my hair and kissed me was the best.
Sunday, July 11
The waterfall hike. Bouncing up the trail in your truck was exhilarating.
Saturday, July 17 - Sunday, July 18
You somehow convinced me to go camping. (It was probably the promise of a queen sized air mattress that won me over. Or the promise of birds that ate out of our hands at the top of the ridge.)
Tuesday, July 20
I let you help me make homemade cookies, even though I hate sharing space in the kitchen.
Friday, July 23
You came over at literally broke my bed. We were moving furniture. I had bought a chest off Facebook Marketplace and needed your help fitting it in my room. And you broke the leg off my bed while moving it. I joked that that's not how I wanted you to break my bed. You helped me fix it this weekend. Buying wood from Homedepot (cue sexy wood jokes), sawing in notches, drilling in screws (cue sexy drill and screw jokes).
Saturday, July 24 (Last Night)
I warned you in advance that the first time we had sex was going to be bad. Not just bad, but really, really bad. Getting used to the way someone feels taking up space inside you...now that's uncomfy.
Sunday, July 25, 2:30 a.m.
The second time was a little bit better.
Sunday, July 25, 8:30 a.m.
My bed is looking better than ever. I have to teach you how to stop immediately when someone says no. But I have hope, because you're getting to be a better kisser.
I need some advice...for realsies
So I was sitting on this man’s motorcycle (in park, not running), we were both straddling it, facing each other. He slung his jacked over my shoulders so that I could lean back against the handlebars comfortably. I put my legs on top of his. At one point he leaned forward and trapped me with his arms all sexy-like.
It was easily the most provocative position I’ve ever been in with a man...and yet, he just doesn’t get my engines running.
I don’t think I will ever (or, at least for a very long time) find anyone who I get along with as easily as this motorcycle-rider. Talking to him, being around him - it’s like breathing. It just comes so naturally. At times, I feel like I’m meant to be with him for the rest of my life.
But here’s the thing (well, two things): I met him a week ago. And we just don’t have any physical chemistry. No spark whatsoever.
I know, I really sound like a 20 year old girl right now. He’s the love of my life! I met him last week! It's a sexless fairy tale!
I’ve actually cut things off twice in the past five days because, holy sh*t, we’ve been moving too fast. Two days ago, I ended things “for real” because I really don’t want to get any more emotionally attached when I just don’t feel a physical spark.
He was breathing heavily over the phone when I broke it to him that I didn’t think we would be successful in the long run. We had this moment of unbearable silence before he whispered, “I guess I can’t change your mind.”
So here’s the question: I could see myself falling in love with this man. Do you think we could build that physical attraction? Or is it something that needs to be there from the start?
I caught a glimps of my elbow in the bathroom mirror tonight. I'd forgotten how light and raised the skin is.
In fifth grade, while I was playing basketball with the boys, I tripped and split it wide open. I haven't looked at that scar in years. I'd forgotten that it even existed.
But I gave it a good long look tonight, running my fingers over the weirdly patterned skin. It's strange how memories like that can bulldoze you for a moment.
And then I got a fucking nose bleed.
Desert Mirages (Limerick XVI)
Said the caravanner to his pack,
“If you value your life, don’t fallback.
No monsters out here,
but that’s not my fear -
When you wave at the sand, it waves back.”
Everyone I've met recently has a piece of me.
They clutch it in their hands,
holding it so that I can see it.
And when I take a closer look,
I'm staring at myself.
Everyone I've met recently has a shard of me.
I think I broke a mirror at some point?
And now they're "helping" me,
picking up the broken pieces,
showing me the warped reflections.
Everyone I've met recently has a bone from me.
They tear me limb from limb,
without even realizing it.
I don't fault them for that.
I asked them to take it.
Everyone I've met recently has tasted my blood.
Drank from a goblet that I offered,
poured from my faucets.
They lick their lips naïvely,
sipping on me unknowingly.
I have a piece of everyone I've met recently.
I don't know if they saw me take it.
While they were picking up my shards,
I picked up one of theirs.
And pocketed it.
The benefits of pre-breaking your heart
I'm smiling because my hair smells like his bed.
But I have to keep telling myself:
I can't fall in love with him.
I can't fall in love with him.