Summer Afternoons

Now I'm just sitting here
drinking red wine
and contemplating.
The promiscuity of death,
the fluttering desire when
new hands
drag trails across your
skin.
The sacred thought that you
cannot be wounded if
you aren't eating.
The need to grasp his body again;
to see that smirk.
I hate bad news.
I hate that when it rains
it pours.
I'm scared that this is the time
that you entered my life.
I won't be able to take any pain,
any disappointment.
I'm cracking.
Maybe I'm dying.
Death is far too simple though
isn't it?
Nothing is ever simple.
I kissed him,
I kissed him.
It was everything.

I dreamed that I was kissing you. 

First your forehead, then your nose.

Top lip, bottom lip, 

chin, 

neck, 

chest. 

All the while afraid that I was forcing myself on you, that at any minute you were going to send me flying across the room. 

And every time I would get to your chest someone would knock on the door. 

A child, or a sibling, or another man. 

That is my life. 

Constantly interrupted by the fear of intimacy or failure. 

I hate that you're gone.

 I hate that I want you.

You said "it's fair now"

and you didn't care.

It's the same as last time.

I'm stupid and alone.

 Left to pick up my crumbling self

The problem is none of them can ever see you

You are nebulous, a little creature with chameleon skin.

sad girl

happy

little mystery girl

and they like it

until they don't

you're alone again

I have to laugh at you

because the absurd

little lies

you tell yourself

you claim happy endings

when have you ever 

committed