Leaking

First drop, the salted water of ocean running across the shore lines,

Second drop, it tastes like how it feels, a blend of all the drinks you associated with the dreams,

Third drop, I’m sure it’ll stop in a few, this may be just a response to emotional stimulus,

Fourth drop, it isn’t two for each eye, it’s one side racing against the other trying to prove that this will not just go by,

Fifth drop, I think about you, that one time you held me by the waist and tugged me closer to your body, breathing words into my soul,

Sixth drop, I remember walking alone to my favorite cafe, early morning, jogging across the little moments I did not want to resuscitate today,

Seventh drop, tick tock, time is passing and the future slips into today, what have you done beyond your past, you are a mere continuation of it,

Eighth drop, I shrug, it subsides, now why haven’t you, my favorite one, you still remember it, too?

Ninth drop, it’s midnight, and I am yours once again, take my away for the tomorrow, may I never be mine again, forever foreign to my body, hold me till I understand what forever means.

Vulnerable to My Own

Stranger in black seeps through disguised by the darkness of my thoughts. My mind is so easily twisted by the words. I do not know. It may be the betrayal of my own thoughts. They tell me I am perfect. They tell me I am pure. But the blood suggests otherwise.

I squeal. The pain is double-sided with pleasure. I moan.

This was the first time being alone with you. Your charm makes me kneel closer to the ground, it makes me satisfied with being yours. Enslaved.

I’m haunted by your towering body. Are you watching my every move. I observe; do not observe me. I am a canvas of unwanted art-critiques. Do not look too deep within the fiber of my existence, the wounds proliferate.

You hold both hands and I cannot move beyond you. I was the one who seduced you then shrugged you away. Your inferiority complex was poked too deeply this one time.

I feel you within me. I hug your mind. Embrace every thought. Tug tighter at your sloping soul. I’m slipping through your self.

And we are one.

We really are.

You won’t leave me tonight. I will wake at two. You will still be haunting me then. Penetrating.

I am desecrating my own church. I am envying my own beauty. I am raping myself. And I don’t mind it as much as I thought I would.