Do You Believe In Miracles?

No. I never needed you to tell me I was strong. I already knew that. I knew that before I knew you existed. I was strong before you, during, you and after you. I am a force that could build cities and move mountains. You told me that you were the spark that turned me from a candle to a flame? Honey, I’m a forest fire that would put the fires of hell to shame.

I am slowly learning that some people are not good for me, no matter how much I love them. I deserve someone who is gentle and kind, because my soul is getting tired. Realizing that I deserve something good is one of the first steps.

When you die, I want
to be the flower blooming

on your grave. Not in honor,
but in spite, because yes,

I grew from your rot,
but I still reached the light

you never saw; will never
see again.

I wondered who got to name the hurricanes.
And I wondered if all the storms were named for somebody they used to love.

You will fall in love with someone who’s cold and always seemingly pushing you away. When all is said and done, they will be forever known as the one person you couldn’t get to love you. Unfortunately, it will hurt and sting worse than the good ones, the ones that chopped up your meat for you and picked out an eyelash from your eye and were nice to your mother, because love often feels like a game we need to win.

The problem with being the rock is no one asks if you’re starting to crumble.

I may think of you softly from time to time. But I’ll cut off my hand before I ever reach for you again.

You belong here, not because you are lovely but because you are more than that.

Kiss her. Slowly, take your time, there’s no place you’d rather be. Kiss her but not like you’re waiting for something else, like your hands beneath her shirt or her skirt or tangled up in her bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss her like you’ve forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss her with a curious childish delight. Laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs. Kiss her until she moans. Kiss her with her face in your hands. Or your hands in her hair. Or pulling her closer at the waist. Kiss her like you want to take her dancing. Like you want to spin her into an open arena and watch her look at you like you’re the brightest thing she’s ever seen. Kiss her like she’s the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. Take your time. Kiss her like the first and only piece of chocolate you’re ever going to taste. Kiss her until she forgets how to count. Kiss her stupid. Kiss her silent. Come away, ask her what 2+2 is and listen to her say your name in answer.