#spilled thoughts

Grabby grasping

Gotcha gasping shared

Air, heavy breathing in time

Sweat beading on brows raised

Gazing down on one kneeling

Aquiver in quiet anticipation

Hands snaking their winding way

Lips clamoring for a climactic taste

Savoring like they have starved

Until this delicious moment

Deep dish best served

Steaming hot

Shaken and stirred and

Slammed on the rocks

Diligent derring-doer

Don’t stop

Let’s connect

Feel the raw appeal

The ravage-me zeal

From me to you and

Back again–traversing

Curvature, taking soft turns

Follow the plunge

Plunder what wonders await

Excavate until unearthing

Steamy quaking caves

Everything else falls away

When concentrating on pleasures

Rapturous treasures that lay

On display for dreamy driven

Desire-riven

Lovers to claim

Game Night

Play with me

In ways only you know how

Tickle my fancies first delicately

Then in ever upping urgency

Stretched out before you

Twister for two

Stripping off layers each turn

Connect the dots; search out

And push every erogenous zone

Won’t pass go until you

Say so…x’s and o’s

Three (or more) in a row

You make me lose count

The amount and vehemence

Mount as we melt

Into mind-melding bliss

Yes both of us win

When we wager like this

Learning to lean

Into every curve

Embrace the imperfections

Find beauty where I used to see

Only scars and marks

Moles and rolls

Pimples and dimples

Doesn’t mean they’re no more

But makes it easier to be

In this skin and better appreciate

What all this body can do

and again i am abandoned

poem transcript under the cut.

[poem transcript:“If only I had swallowed my hurt

let the razor-sharp edges cut my throat,

let the dark red wine wash the sins away.

Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this corner

begging God for an answer

screaming my throat raw.

Instead I wore it as a medal

shiny and loud for everyone to see.

Unwilling to die quietly,

I held a parade in place of a funeral.

I am the entire procession

and Lucifer the only witness.

What would they think

if they saw me now?

Would they tiptoe around me,

afraid of detonating the bomb

of my being,

or would they avoid me altogether

and laugh as the trumpets blare?

If only I had swallowed my hurt

maybe then they wouldn’t have left.” [/end transcript]

poem transcript under the cut

[transcript: “Did he save you when you promised to walk to Jerusalem for him? Did he clean the blood from your wounds and kiss it better?

Weak hands maintain a strong grip on the steering wheel. You mumble a prayer under your breath. You’re not quite sure what you’re even praying for.

Words are muffled by the loud wind whipping in through the open window. It roars through your ears and everything feels wrong, everything’s too much now.

A little squirrel lies dead in the middle of the road, streaking the pavement with an ugly red color. You try to ignore the feeling of dread curling up in your stomach. Who are you if not his?

You begin to wonder how sturdy a steering wheel is. Could he break it with his bare hands

Just like this? Fingers curled around the wheel, jaw clenched, shoulders tense.

He slams on the brakes and the seat belt digs into your shoulder. Are you the passenger or the little squirrel, a lifeless inconvenience?

 Close your eyes and feel the wind whipping at your face. Ignore his outburst and listen to the wind. 

 Let the wind carry you to Jerusalem,

Let your Mother Nature kiss it better.” [/end transcript]

ACT IV: SPEAK

tiptoeing down the corridor

asking for a sign that his love was real

and as the moonlight floods the room

from the open window,

he thinks he can see the almost-love

that had escaped him a million times.

and when the sun rises again

he’ll be haunted by his mistakes of speaking with his mouth closed

in a quiet room

and mumbling the words

“I love you”

over the audience’s applause.

I tried giving up a lot of times.

But then my eyes kept opening

and my feet continued walking,

not wanting to leave me hanging

without giving life another try.

One more time. Let’s give it another try. // ma.c.a

Sometimes you’ll find comfort in what your mind says, even if it doesn’t fit with the answers that your soul is truly asking for.

I don’t know what you’re capable of // ma.c.a

“I want to wake up to a sunrise that doesn’t mean another day of struggling to survive.” she said. “Am I the only one? Who wants a naturally tranquil and pleasant life?” she said, wondering if anybody thought the same thing. “You know how much I love the sunrise, but lately I’m sleeping too much, but it’s not enough. It seems that I’ve lost sight of how beautiful a new day was.”

Heavier // ma.c.a

You’ve been with yourself from the very start, so if ever you’ll wander away, you can always come back.

I’m a little lost // ma.c.a

when things are not FINE // ma.c.a

“You know, I don’t want to be like this, too. I’m trying, and I know some people haven’t seen me do that. Because sometimes it’s not visible to anyone.” he said. “I wanted to be so in love with life that I will have no more time to overthink about what will come next. I wanted to have a clear mind that there’s no more chance for me to worry about anything.” he almost laughed, then continued, “I mean, who would never want that?”.

I don’t want to tell you, but here // ma.c.a

“And I realized that what I want to end is not my life.” she said. “But what makes me hate living.”

It’s that time of the year // ma.c.a

when things are not FINE / ma.c.a

when things are not FINE // ma.c.a

Chasing your dreams starts with taking one step to move forward—no matter how little it may seem.

You don’t have to run, at the beginning // ma.c.a

It’s not that easy to believe that things will get better, when all you’re feeling in the present tells you that nothing will ever change.

But the world still revolves around—the storms will eventually stop, and the sun will continue to rise over and over—again.

give it a chance // ma.c.a

And if you could find something to admire about someone else, I hope you’ll at least try to do the same thing—to yourself.

why would it be so hard? // ma.c.a

Sometimes it’s going to be suffocating but give yourself some time to breathe. You’re moving according to your own timeline and no one can do it best except for you.

Beautiful things take time // ma.c.a