love letter

late night snack

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Peeling down the yellow-bright skin, the insides await ice cream. I whip dollops of cream upon my sweet dream, and drizzle the top with chocolate syrup. The first spoonful carries all the flavor up to my lips, tongue salivating creeps a tip to stick and lick…OH, sooo good.

As I made my late night snack, you came to mind. I could eat you, not like with bites I swallow, but I can’t stop pondering, watching in my mind, my mouth on your body. I’m trying to be cool. I’m attempting coy. I struggle to find the right words that express…what? I want to be friends? Well, yes…yet, I have that devilish other side that wants you to be mine.

So, my days of summer are over, and fall makes me catch my breath, terrified of what’s next because I always seem to say too much and in the end lose out. Maybe you will magically hear me (unlike literally everyone in my life) and tell me that you feel me, and everything is gonna be alright.

Each morning and as I fall asleep every evening, I indulge in the dream as if it’s real, sucking in the sweetness, never full.

squeeze me…please

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I’ve been through a lot over the last three decades since I’ve been an adult. I moved umpteen times, but despite the states having different weather, I could never escape myself. I rode darkness like a wave through days as if all in me was OK. All-encompassing love became an unattainable dream, never to be reality. And I settled into my bed, and I satisfied myself…that was fine til I die, which, of course, will be coming soon, spinal cord injury makes old a body like mine, I think, God, how much longer can I survive?

You…then, you…your energy electrified my insides with passion not pain!

I find myself feeling things I CANNOT explain.

I want for something I know is not for someone like me.

For the first time, I know why I don’t feel complete.

The gulp that gets stuck in my throat, taking away my breath…the need to feel you, to have you squeeze me, drives me insane.

The crave almost hurts. I can’t turn you off, the feel of you so sweet, I keep hitting repeat…

First Time

Macy did a perfect job explaining the emotional impact you make in my world. Oh, my muse, I adore you making my sweet spot sore, I come wanting more.

Fingers

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Your fingers dance with me in my dreams, patterns of pleasure with every twist, every bend

A finger removes a lock of hair pinned to my cheek before you bow down to kiss me deep

I take your hand in mine, my lips carress each digit, opening a nip to envelop every tip

After having your hand hold mine, I want to go back in time, or meet me, come in my door

I don’t trust

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I can’t even trust myself anymore. I’m so scared for the beginning to be the end. I revert to protecting my SELF. I doubt and I push and I cry:

“I have more to say, don’t go away! You’ll forget me in your world so full! You taught me to want to fly again! My fear tells me nothing good is for me so I must not be seeing things clearly. I can’t escape thinking of us meeting, please Zack, I’m pleading!”

Colorful dreams are all I can feel, for a mystical beauty is what you show me. Every image, every place, every instrument, every face, you exude a saving GRACE!

I want to tell you, but you’ll know, what I want doesn’t matter in my world. No matter how I try I can’t keep hope alive.

My 4th??? Maggots, no joke, invaded my garbage cans, then garage, after the refrigerator broke, fireworks canceled, everyone eracible but me, until alone I got bit by a bug poisoning my dream when I feel the most beauty.

Today hard long day, people challenging, emotions stale only family around picking on my flaws, but then, my sadness smells like flowers as I watch you sing, curing everything.

I’ll never make myself let go. No, so lovely a personality, you I can’t help but want to follow…even when you forget I exist.

I’ll build myself back up. I have to, always do. But, it’s easier with your words help.