Like a flower

I am not used to this
The familiar
The regular

I create like a fiend when I am hungry and thirsty and hurting
But what about when I am contented, trusting and safe?
It’s hard to write that word, “safe”.
I never really believe it, but I’m gonna fake it ‘til I make it
This time

You inspire me to inspire myself
To try
To see beyond the near horizon
To perhaps go where no me has gone before
Because you love me
And seemingly all the Mes I had created to throw at someone willing to accept the challenge
You laugh
And it’s not the fleeting warmth of a brief sexual encounter
It’s the nicknames
The thoughtfulness
It’s laughter from our guts at the same time because of a look on my face or words we’ve said
And we laugh

And maybe all the faraway places we want to go are fantasy
And maybe all the plans we hope to make will end up little more than a cozy home we never leave
Either way
I’m so much more with you
Than I ever was
Alone in my two bedroom

I don’t know if I can create the way I did
Because I don’t see the world the same anymore (honestly, who does?)
But your kisses and grins and sweet presence
Your comfort
Make me think maybe the words don’t always have to come from a place of pain
Maybe I have more Me to discover
Maybe there is something beautiful in some mundanity
Some regular familiarity
When you’re not just surviving
You can become something really beautiful

Publish immediately

Impatient doesn’t begin to describe it
My blood is infected
You kissed my soul
I am forever touched
So I ache
I crave
I hunger
I am wretched
With desire
Need to feel your desperation flowing
The way mine runs in your direction
The waiting
Is unbearable
I am angry and wet
Until your hands are on my neck
I am thinking only in moans
Words are useless

But I need them just as much
They’re like a song
You can sing to me
I’ll give you my harmony
But I don’t know if I can hold the notes
This is too long to go like this
We have only been able to speak in whispers
Of what will be

I can’t hear you
Loud enough
I can’t feel you in my head
I miss your touch
I can’t see your body joining with mine
The heat on your skin in flush
I can’t taste you in my mouth
Oh my love

When can we two be one again?

Us in this realm

Memory foam I sit upon bears the weight and prologue of chronicles we have begun to write
The creaking of the frame beneath us
is only me tonight
I feel you acutely
I could tell you this but I want to let you sleep

The scent of you in a bright plaid shirt you left behind precisely for me to have some part of you here
Along with your sport coat
Hanging where I can sit and stare

I sat on the bed with the shirt in my hands
Face buried in
Seeking the scent I find when my face is buried in your chest
I haven’t felt you in these hands for a week
Our bodies bridged in longer still
I haven’t taken relief
To contend with the ache that is me
When was the last time I wanted someone inside my skin like this?

The digital casts we scribble around our pictures
The tickling phrases and giggles and teases
I smile and laugh and grin and smirk
with you and for you and because of you
Near tears at the sweetness you constantly reveal
You are everything dear
And soon near to me
My heart fills up and explodes and mends and fills up over and over
I write the words here instead of keeping you from REM, baby

When you wake you will give me words again
“Words to memorize, words hypnotize”
Words from songs we have already been singing to each other
And all our lives
Now entwined
Because we are crazy perfect together

I would say all these things to you
in white type on blue talk bubbles with emoji hearts and kisses
But you need rest, striker.
My thoughtful one
muse-loving muse
saying my name out loud as you fade into slumber

good night
good nights to come
histories to write
worlds to conquer
traveling time and space and infinite combinations of our union
As we go
I am yours, my extragalactic, multiversal being
In this version of forever

I am no Ogden Nash, that’s for certain

What if you wrote something 
while your brains were drunken?
What if you were too sauced
to make sense of all your jumbled thoughts?
Should you say a single word?
If you did would it make matters worse?
What matters?
Must you blather?

I know…
How about the weather?
It’s wet in my glass
Doesn’t make my brain work better
Maybe my tongue tastes like leather

Whips and chains!
Who said that?
Only an XX refrain
Drinking in a chat
Alongside my good prose gone bad

We’re floating our boats
As the “poet” makes garbled notes
Can a note even be “garbled”
It should probably be garbaged
On a night like this
We would be remiss
When one’s brain function is missing
Soaked in rum and longing

But we will not speak of such things
We will not even think
We will shut our mouths and then open them and

quality (out of) control

I’ve said it in professional spaces:
I’m good at breaking things.

I meant it. I am.
I will fiddle and noodle and figure out how to make something work poorly or stop working all together.
Because someone always breaks stuff
So I’d like to preempt it
So it can be secured. improved.

Cut to me personally;

I don’t love it though.

I do these things because I can’t help it
But I watch from
Behind my eyes
In terror
And my hand is on the keys
My fingers on the buttons
The ink is flowing
I open my mouth
The words come
Rocks at a glass house
Spoons in the garbage disposal
Nails in tires

And it’s out of my hands
What comes next
I can only watch it unfold
The disappointment
The anger
The misunderstanding
The leaving

I tweak
I tinker
I provoke
And then it’s over before I can say
“please wait”
“that’s not what I meant”
”I’m sorry. Please let me explain”

It’s a swift and immediate reaction
When buttons are pressed in the correct combination
Notice I didn’t say “right”
Because it’s so wrong
I bite my tongue in the anguish of knowing it could happen again at any time

This talent is a curse
perhaps even a disease
I certainly feel sick

Self sabotage is emotional ipecac

I need something for the pain
…that I cause
…that I invite
…that I sustain

But how do I fix?
How do I cure?
How do I resolve the fear
that propels me to seek the cracks
that I will exploit
when left unchecked?

I need help to discern between
the things that need breaking
and what I should keep close to me

Who gets THAT job?