The Middle…

She took his lip between hers, bloodless, no air. How sweet life was to taste compared to this, but sometimes even vampires meet each other between legs. It’s a different sort of loving, instead of consuming, it’s the sex of companionship, of not having to explain bloodlust or savagery, nor to make excuses for it.TheyContinue reading “The Middle…”

Move On Girl

The anxiety and guiltpushes up throughmy ribsI breathe outsome generic liesthat tripon my lip–I haven’t practicedfor this–As my time draws closer to an end withyou and thissituationdraws more blood,than, perhapsit should,A friend reminds methat I owe no-oneanything–Still, a part of mewants to prostrateat the feet ofan ideology, I don’t fully understand –I think this isContinue reading “Move On Girl”

Language of my Heart

I think thatSometimesThe right wordsDon’t comeWith the right feelingInsteadI try to tell youSomethingOnly I can feelIn a language made By manIn a language thatIs not theLanguage of myHeart -A.A. @nyxilotbiscuit I don’t talk often about the feeling of loss that comes from not knowing my native language fluently. I don’t talk about what it’s likeContinue reading “Language of my Heart”

#23 healing poetry; safety

Safety feels likeWarm tea onA cold dayYou knowIt’s cold butIt’s okayYou have everythingYou needTo defrost your smileThe cup kissesYour lipsAnd you’re lost in safetyFor a while. Time stands still, In the brush of finger tips, It feels like Safety.

Act Two: a poem about feeling

A slight, sugary burn, Coats the sides of my tongue. You know, the parts that lift up slightly, and push up against molars? It makes sense, I suppose, to feel an uptilt in the soft flesh, nestled between my teeth. Someone told me, just this week, ‘You have no control over a story, once it’sContinue reading “Act Two: a poem about feeling”