Archive for the ‘Sex’ Category

I Know It Well.

There is a place that still belongs to you, a reminder for my still fractured heart.

A friend recently told me she still cries, sometimes, when she thinks of her first fiancé. A love that was but wasn’t: enough, whole, right. A happy marriage and two beautiful kids will never erase what once was. For memories are merely wrinkles etched upon your soul. Pieces of a past that will forever influence your present and your future.

There is a place that still belongs to you, at 3 AM when nothing make sense.

A dream for the nights I miss you. That soft voice and steady laugh. Mornings wrapped up in your arms. The way I feel you touch me there. Again. Again. Again. The best I’ve ever had. The worst I’ve ever had. A nightmare for the nights I hate you. The lies you whispered like sweet nothings to disguise the other women in your head, in your bed. I fall back asleep praying to forget you.

There is a place that still belongs to you, a lesson I’m still learning.

A never ending supply of writing material. The book I have yet to write. Someday I’ll plaster you across chapters. Someday I’ll categorize our failures into lovely phrases more constructive than our conversations. I’ll make love to you in words, and in the same breath, I’ll tear you apart syllable by syllable. There are no promises to be made for treating our story with grace. The same way you broke every promise you ever made.

There is a place that will always belong to you, a reminder of what love isn’t.


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Explosions in the sky sounds like you —that easy silence, every breath telling me you felt it too. I hear tears next to memories of all the things we used to do. And, still it calms me. The soft ebb and flow of the chords singing syllables only known to me. And, once to you. Music isn’t the same without you. It’s been years and last week was the first Bon Iver has once again come through my speakers. It doesn’t hurt the way it used to. Just lost, like having a home you no longer know the way back to. Your favorite highway, divided, widened, made public. Nothing is sacred once it’s shared. Never the same the second time, the last time. 
The first time I fell in love I was young, naïve. I’m not sure I even knew what it meant. Different is frightening at 17. Easier to run 700 miles away, pretend reality was only make believe. Love is just a a fairytale until you’re ready.
The last time I fell in love was messy. The way your room feels after a trip. Dirty laundry and unpacked memorabilia strewn across the floor. It’s home, just not clean. You can’t live this way for long, even though you want to. Even though it’s easier to ignore. But love should never be lazy, never feel like a chore.  
Sometimes I think about you, when I’m with him. His tongue moves differently than yours did. He doesn’t know how I like it in bed. Like the time, with the scarf, on the chair. Maybe that’s why you’re meant to be with one person that way. Intimacy is hard to erase. You miss this. Compare that. Start thinking I’m not over it all over again.  
Again, and again. You’re expected to play the game but nobody tells you how many losses you’re going to take when you start. The more I try the less I know. The more I see the less I want to be anything but alone. I’m honest. Too honest. And I’m scared the one person who gets that about me will be the only one who ever will. 10 years and I still want to look to him for advice, for approval, for relief. The pause when nothing else makes sense. He is my late night conversation and my phone call home. The one I think about when I can’t think anymore. Something to hang onto, that song you’ll always remember because of the memories you’ll never forget. Never regret.

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Sometimes, I sleep with the ghost of you. With the memories that are still warm and easy to curl up in. You hold me tight with all the words I’ll never forget. The ones I wanted to believe you meant. The ones I held onto too long. I lay next to the handful of nights I thought you’d stay. When love was something I felt instead of just another line you played.

Sometimes, I sleep with the ghost of you. I lose hours wrapped up in your arms. You kiss me over and over again. My toes curl; I lose control. We have sex like it’s the last time every time. I cuddle up with what’s been lost and what will never be again. You were the love I thought I wanted. I was the girl you never did. This bed is now as empty as your promises.

Sometimes, I sleep with the ghost of you. I lay next to the images I wish I could forget. The ones of you with her and her and her. The empty look in your eyes as I cried. The ones where you genuinely stole my heart. Holding me tight in your arms as you told me everything would be alright. I lay next to the memories of sadness and regret. You were my biggest mistake, my hardest heartbreak, my fucked up love.

I sleep with the ghost of you, sometimes. And, I pray I never meet anyone like you again.

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It’s Sunday

I want to read a book
In my oversized chair but
We had sex there
Hands pulled back
With only syllables
Writing a fantasy
I only just confessed

and I think
nothing is holy anymore.

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Just Maybe

Maybe, sex could have saved us.

Your heart was where I wanted to be, when, perhaps, I should have let you inside me. For us both to feel what we needed, how we needed it.

I gave you too little too late.

An after thought to what I craved the whole time. Too afraid to give you something that meant everything and nothing all at once.

My love was never enough.

Words I’ll never say to you are heard by blank pages over and over again. I would have fought for us, but you never gave me the chance.

A summer fling that meant everything.

I should have let you go all the way, like other girls have done since. They gave you what I never did, and maybe that’s what ruined us.

I’ll never really know.

My imagination runs wild with the could haves and should haves. I cared for you with my whole heart, yet neglected to complement that with my whole body.

The lie was that we were beautiful enough.

A precious moment in time I will never forget and never regret. Except that I lost you. And continue to lose you every time I hear of you with someone new.

You didn’t want me enough.

Or, was it that you wanted me too much. And, it scared you. To feel something so serious again. You weren’t ready to commit so you let me go.

It kills me to see you now.

Not believing you deserve someone who treasures who you are. A gentle man characterized by humor and determination. Wanting love but not believing you deserve it. Settling for cheaters and superficial nights in bed. You should be respected, and respect yourself. You are worth so much more than you think.

I saw that every day.

And how I wish to see it again. To be there for you the way I used to be. But we lost the friendship we once built back.

Maybe, sex could have saved us.

If I could do it over, I would risk it all for you.

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Let me be naked next to you.

The heart speaks volumes next to someone it trusts. Conversation explodes as honesty shows. All you always wanted but never knew how to obtain. The vulnerability and security of letting someone in. The comfort of knowing you’re not alone. That you will never be alone again. Two hearts beat as one. The way it was created to be. The way you’ve always meant to me. A piece to my puzzle I never knew was missing. I say things I’ve never said and become someone I never was. Come next to me and give me your heart as I’ve tried to give you mine. All that’s lost I promise you’ll find. Forever is how long I’ll fight for you.

Let me be naked next to you.

All the secrets you’ve never wanted to expose. The dark places that you make you unworthy of love. The testaments of nights gone wrong. A person you never were or want to be again. Go back to all the places you’ve escaped from. Revisit the aftermath of brokenness, horror, and misunderstanding. Those are the places you’ve come to fear the most. The same places I’m dying to visit. If only to bring a light you never knew was there. A tunnel toward the reason why. Things only break to be mended and made better again. I will sew you back together. Make you new. We will be each others exception.

Let me be naked next to you.

Flaws are the things we see wrong with ourselves. The same things that are beautiful to someone else. The way you’re beautiful to me. I see ribs gently rising under exposed skin as you flex. I touch your arms as your muscles tighten. I trace the lines on your back slowly with my finger, gradually making my way to where it ends. That’s where it begins. All I ever wanted to be, with you. Two bodies moving in rhythm. The same way your lips speak with your tongue. How your eyes flicker open in intense moments. How you grasp tighter and I know exactly what you want. Together is where we’re meant to be.

Let me be naked next to you.

The promise of not always getting what you want. Fighting for something when we feel like there is nothing left. Trample on my heart as I tell you lies. Pull on me as I push back. Yell for no reason as I walk away for the same. The beauty is what we know remains. A genuine connection to love and to love again. What we knew we always wanted but were to afraid to have. This is what it means to be alive. Taking the good with the bad and the ugly. Never knowing what comes next but always know you have each other. We’d give each other a million second chances, because that’s what you do when you love someone.

Let me be naked next to you.

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A memory.

The sultry summer air is dancing on tip toe, caressing the space between our fingers. Yours grasp tighter, and I tingle. The sun has long fallen behind faded violet clouds. It is only us. Finally, us. The trees and the hilltops watch from afar. The dirt gives way to tired hiking shoes. Hidden creatures listen to cautious chatter. It’s the start of something unknown again. The way it always is when something begins. The uncertainty of what comes next. I wonder how you kiss. Or, how your hands will feel underneath my shirt, on my bare body, on places you only dream of. I wonder how you taste. I trace the outline of your lips in my head, imagine mine closing in and the way they’ll travel down your skin. I wonder if we’ll ever love, or if you’re capable of it. I know nothing about you. What should scare me turns me on. I get lost in the possibility of you, and hope for what I may never know.

A memory.

It’s Christmas time. I’m sitting in a pile of handwritten letters. All addressed to you. To the boy who stole my heart, changed my world, strengthened my faith. The long nights spent cuddling on your parents couch. The embarrassing display of tears and explicit stories told. You were the one person who saw me through every storm, even when I felt like I’d never find land again. It’s all there. In the torn pages from my journal. The typed on white computer paper. The small shreds of bible verses turned into poems. I gave you my heart in a manilla envelope, sentences and sentiments I will never get back. The same as you. Gone forever. A package never to be returned. Still, I thank you. You made me believe in unspeakable friendship. Proved it’s possible to live through devastating loss.

A memory.

One o’clock in the morning. We’re lying in the middle of a quiet highway, twisted between countryside and mountain air. The first time I’ve seen you in years. Now we’re beneath the stars. You ask me what I would do if things were different. I think about your girlfriend. The one I didn’t know you had. I don’t answer. You know that I would kiss you. I don’t, because I know you’d kiss me back. We just lay there. The music we’ve shared over the past six months plays softly on portable speakers, mixes with the gentle hum of crickets and fireflies. We talk about everything, as if the last five years never separated us. I fall in love with the promise of shared emotions, hope, and passion. This is not my fairytale. But it’s out there, hidden in genuine conversations and familiar songs. You never called me yours, but you gave me truth. The possibility to be wanted for who you are inside.

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