Black Nails

In this form, is the only way I possibly know how to express my emotions.

A woman who uses words as an outlet, piecing them together to explain this feeling, has been twisting.

For the words that I muster up, just never fit quite right.

You are the sound of coffee drips,

And the quiet moments before I fall asleep.

You are a humble scent, a sweet after taste.

I feel you inside my skin.

I think of you in seventy degree weather,

When I am warm and my eyes are bright.

You make me feel like my favorite song.

Performed, and I am so close to the stage that I can taste the singer's breath.

Being yours, is the equivalent of an adrenaline rush.

A surreal high, dialated pupils.

This boy is a never before seen color,

He is a full stomach, and dim lights.

The presence of you is hot water, beading down my neck.

Ice dancing in a new glass.

He is the cracking of my spine,

He is the needle in my skin.

My boy is the pressure inside of my body as he fucks.

His touch, that is the thorn being removed from my side.

A fire in my blood.

He is sap inside the trees.

The reflection in every puddle.

This boy is the contrast of moonlight.

I see him dancing in the water of the lakes.

If given the chance, I would crawl in through his eyes.

Sleep in his brain after picking it apart.

You are my ticks, you are my traits.

You are every even amount.

He is, to me, the most beautiful thing I have ever been stuck on.

And though I may be afraid, he is also the happiness in my gums, my sweet tooth that makes me rot.

All together, he is the reason I love again.

He is the love that has been hiding.