It’s that heart stutter as butterflies flutter that reminds you that you’re alive. It’s the tangible tension and wantings unmentioned that sparks a special kind of desire. When you want to breach the barrier and reach across the table to grab hold and never let go. It’s the memories of messages coursing through your veins, words whispered that leave stains on your soul. It’s rereading, replaying, remembering and dreaming while wondering and wishing that you’re not diving alone. It’s the breathlessness upon a subtle graze and suddenly your skin is on fire yearning and burning for more.

It’s a connection, a knowing - a risk worth taking when you throw caution to the wind and jump hoping that someone will be jumping in with you.

With a glimmer of hope, rather than feeling fulfilled, I feel depleted.  I feel that final strand pulled taught, ready to unravel at any moment.  Hope is in the air, yet my heart is a black hole of despair - hopeless, used, unloved.  It was bite-size bliss wrapped in a cellophane kiss, my mind screaming questions unasked as I found myself lost in your smile.  It’s so easy to confuse passion with attraction, laughter with desire, a smile with security.  So let me drown today in the mistakes I’ve made and dream of day I’ll feel I’m home.

I must harden my heart against you, love, lose you in the forbidden forest before I’m left searching for the light.

Do I resonate within you, dearest? Am I the catch in your breath or the tremble upon your stuttering lips? Do you wish for me, lovely? Are there whispers of my name on dreary nights? Do I rest within thoughts and dreams or brush against the seams of your tattered heart? Do I quake against your rhythm, darling? Am I a sigh beneath the moonlight?

Is my imprint scarred upon your flesh, my love? For my fingers trace the etching of you every night.

I could write infinite sonnets about your lips, begging you to hush my rhymes with one kiss.
The beckoning pout of a peach so sweet, teasing of a delicious nectar yet known. The smile that beams bright streams through my heart and it screams wanting to leap from my chest into yours. That smile. Oh, how I pine for that smile. How I stir, how I yearn, how I burn for that smile. And I wake each day and break anew with the dawn as I think of those pink, soft lips that aren’t yet mine.
I could write infinite sonnets about your lips, begging you to hush my rhymes with one kiss.

Sometimes things feel so surreal, so unreal I feel I’m floating in someone else’s reality. Perhaps it’s from living in fantasy, dreaming, daydreaming, scheming and aching for something more, something new, for wishes to come true.

These girls in their heels
Walk like creatures
From an apocalyptic
Horror movie
Surrounded
I’m afraid
They will come after me
Try to make me one of them
With their makeup kits
And stiletto persuasion
Lucky for me
I’m invisible

I long for warmth and conversation, for toes buried under thighs and my head resting upon another’s shoulder. I yearn for cocoa and laughter and you. Tender lips begging to be kissed and a restless heart calling your name.  I itch at stories yet to be written and twitch at words yet to be said.

I wander aimlessly, glass eyed and vacant because my thoughts have drifted far from myself to you. I miss you every day and lose myself in dreamscapes as I wait until I can find myself captured by the safety of your arms, enraptured by the masterpiece you are so I can become lost in your eyes once again.

I’ve been holding it in, turning away from the pain, burning in agony as I wait wasting away to an apparition until I’m simply a figment of your imagination, a ghost of better days.

“If I just sit here long enough, maybe you’ll see me and take me away.”

She sat in beautiful splendor upon the giant rock, the wind tangled within her hair like her lover’s fingers.  Her skin was bathed in moonlight, caressing her flesh with satin kisses.

“Take me as your own, dearest.”

Looking upon her, you’d never seen a girl so lovely, so pure and unharmed, the moonlight erasing her scars and heartache.  Her face was upturned to the moon, tears running down her face in such grace you’d think she was an apparition. 

“I’ll be your slave, your savage, your wife, oh, dark goddess.”

She raised her hands toward the sky, driving the blade deeply into her palm.  Blood began to trickle down her arms, staining her white dress.  A sudden fire exploded in her belly, setting her veins on fire.  Her back arched violently, the blade flung from her grip.  As if attached to invisible thread, her body was lifted into the air, twitching, convulsing, becoming.

“Take me as your own, my love.”

She inhaled violently, her eyes opening widely, exposing the black orbs they’d become.

***

“I’m so glad you agreed to come,” he whispered into her hair before kissing her neck.

“I’m here on one condition,” she breathed.  “Where are the cuffs?”

He laughed deeply.  “There’s my feisty girl.  I’m missed you.”  He kissed her deeply before trotting toward the bed.  He tossed the handcuffs toward her and sprawled across the bed.  “Take me, baby.”

A wicked light flashed through her eyes and a smirk marked her lips.  She straddled his chest and began securing his wrists.  “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time.”

“Oh, really?”

She slapped him across the face, her expression stoic and cold.  “Don’t interrupt.”  With his wrists cuffed to the bed, she shimmied down, resting her supple ass upon his thighs.  “I’ve wanted this, dreamed of this, tasted this moment.”  She pulled a box cutter from her back pocket.

His body tightened, panic striking his face.

“Hush, don’t worry.” She pulled the collar of his shirt taut and sliced in in half.  She could feel him relax slightly beneath her.  She began kissing down his chest, unbuttoning his pants as she went.  “Remember your last girl?” She whispered against his skin, sending chills up his spine.  Images flashed before his eyes. 

A girl was screaming, in pain.
Tears streaming down her face.
His hands holding down her wrists.
His mouth wrapping around a single phrase.
“Shut up and take it, you whore.”

“Now you remember,” she giggled.  “She’ll never be the same, you know.  You’ve altered the course of her life.”  She pulled down his boxers, exposing his bare flesh.  “You take what you want, don’t you?”  She looked up at him finally, black orbs glistening in their sockets.  Her voice took on a guttural tone that was nearly inhuman.  “But I am the avenger of the hurting, the savoir of the scarred and you’ll never hurt another girl again.”  She plunged the knife into his crotch and smiled at his screams of pain.

It was like the world crumpled beneath my feet. If you’ve ever experienced it, you know what I mean. It feels as sickening as free falling without a parachute until your knees give out and you collapse to the floor. You can’t breathe. You can’t hear anything but your heartbeat and the broken record of your mind repeating, ‘he cheated, he cheated, he cheated.’ When the dizziness clears and you once again feel the weight of the world, the nausea strikes, but your legs are too weak to run. The tears and sobs shake your frame. The tremors and convulsions erupt in waves. You’re hot, then cold. Broken then enraged, but the record plays on, ‘he cheated, he cheated, he cheated.’ You wonder how you’ll go on. You wonder how you missed the signs. You wonder where you went wrong. You blame him. You blame yourself. You pick yourself off the floor. You here a soft click as he comes through the door. You walk to the kitchen and pick a glittering blade slightly stained with his dinner you made. You wait until he’s behind you to turn around and glide the knife in time with the record, ‘he cheated, he cheated, he cheated.’