Glue

I unlike most, prefer not to be held together. Not cause I don't want to, because I need to learn how to hold myself together without anyone else. The reason I don't hold other people together is because I want them to learn how to hold themselves together as well. I'm not broken, I'm not frayed, I'm not cracked, and I am not shaken. To be dependent is to be weak, to be a brick wall is to be foolish. Call me a fool for I'd rather be a strong fool than a weak intellect. Never let them see you sweat and in turn you'll never bleed. I will take it, swallow it whole and ask for just a bit more. I just need someone who knows how to handle me. Come around.

Strings and Simple Things

we only made out, you never kissed me.

Mission accomplished, through tooth and nail, through pushing and pulling, through hidden messages in the airwaves. Its funny how certain acts drain every ounce of innocence of even the simplest places. Like unclogging a drain and watching the water whirl pool down the drain into rusted pipes. We only say what we want to hear yet somehow we're both perfectly aware and at the same time perfectly okay with it. Just allow your eyes to adjust and your senses perk up, easy baby, its just like riding a bike, ease into me. Rumour seems to have it that I'm a thunderstorm, taking what I please, choosing what I want, coming at will, putting up walls to block off the attachments. If all goes as planned, neither will fall because neither of us will catch the other. Its written in blue or black ink, conventional lust. Each others outlet, a release. Lets see who can keep their emotions string free. I'm willing to place a bet.

Skin

i wish you only knew
how i crack like porcelain for you
how my foundations shake
how my hands begin to ache
the tighter you squeeze
the harder i breathe

Desires v Dignity

I guess we both just want to hurt. Not ourselves and not each other, the ones that hurt us. Sure, its comparing murder to manslaughter but our own spiteful desires tend to overshadow all convictions. Tend to fuel our irrational behaviours. Tend to justify our desires over our morals. Tend to sink their teeth hard enough to inch you forward. Just as long as we hurt, just as long as we hurt the ones who hurt us.

I Am The Sculptor

I want to be a sculptor, I want you to be my clay. Let me run my fingers along your soft substance, your cool damp edges smooth to my touch. You are mailable and I am ready to shape. Crack free and essentially whimsical to my every movement. We dance together, taking on each others figured, stumble over over our bends. Dancing along the gravel of the ground, enveloping everything in our path. Becoming one with ourselves, one with one another, one with our surroundings. Melting in the summer, freezing in the winter. Catching every zephyr, repelling every drop of rain. We will not crumble with age, we will not erode to become sediments in the life cycle. Here we will stay, a sculptor and its clay. Morphed into one. Art imitates life. I am art.