Ima write you a poem

ima write you a poem,
about how you put me on sweet tea.
a country girl to the core but raised with northern tendencies.
no exquisite taste,
never been one thirsty for the finer things,
simplicity'll do just fine for me.

gimme a book to read & a nice big oak with some shade.
let me rub yo feet under the tree after I pour you a glass of lemonade
sing to you as we lay in the grass under the stars,
all these pleasantries mixed with my fascination with your southern drawl.

clinging to your every word,
then cringing with nervous excitement as you whisper in my ear.
throw me over your shoulder while you run through the cornfield and hold me high in the sky once we reach the end of the lakes pier.

and you'll kiss me while the frogs, and crickets, and fireflies, make up all the noises, giving us the only light,
as the darkness enveloping us
makes me forget about the city's night skies.

got me wanting to name my babies after you, as I sway back and forth to the rhythm of your voice and the waters silent song cries.
but then the moon'll come out and you'll hold me close as I look up into your searching eyes.

and I'll giggle as I start sinking into the mud looking down on our exposed toes,
"where are my shoes!?" I yell, after I steal a kiss on your cheek and run back towards the house.

you'll catch up with me, scoop me up and we'll fall right back under the oak tree. and I'll lay in your arms and tell you this poem about how you put me on sweet tea

slow dance

i stood there, in the middle of my room and slow danced to Al Green's Simply Beautiful...with his shirt...which had long lost the scent of him, but with tears in my eyes i tried to reenact that scene...a scene i remembered...how could it have meant nothing...nothing at all to him...i used to slow dance all the time...previously...with him, but not him, him as in, the love of my life...i remember during the break up, i asked him, please would you not share the slow dance with anyone else...can i at least have that?...he laughed. guess that was a no...you danced with me...when i hadn't felt that in years...the urge to slow dance...you awakened that in me...and it didn't matter as much until that night...the night i danced with your shirt, to the song we'd slow danced to months ago, together, Al Green's Simply Beautiful, but that night, alone, dancing with your shirt, every word he said had a new meaning...

love & lust

to love & lust...to love in lust...to lust in love

love & lust

wanna stay up all night, wrapped up in your arms
just watching the moon, and the stars, til the sun decides to return
eyes red with anger, but a heart too filled to leave
holding on to you but dying inside
why'd you make it so hard to breath
the moon lit up and peeking through the window
our bodies intertwined
darkness drowning the realities between us
exempting what could be of yours and mine
with every gasp and moan, both finger tips and toes align with the stars
every scratch and clinging moment
doing absolutely nothing to take place of the internal scars
eyes red with anger but with a heart too filled to leave
defined by amorous passion
recurring feelings of lust surpassing the truth of your deceit

round and round

i keep replying to your texts. you keep answering my calls...

these nothing ass conversations...just give me this momentary relief. like an avid cigarette smoker who wants to quit soo damn bad but needs a puff every so often, like a coke feign who wants to quit cold turkey but gets that unscratchable itch every now and then, just needing a little feel of the needle to the skin, how i so badly want to never think of you or have ever even known you, i was introduced to a drug that engulfed my whole being, the smell of it, the taste of it, the satisfaction...i thought i was dreaming. you became my addiction.

the beginning of any fixation is always the most exciting, but the reality was and still is most addictions just become bad habits to break, no matter how enticing

so i keep replying to your texts and you keep answering my calls..,