Maybe gonna write

my phone died
when i was telling you
how wonderful you are

my friends think you're great,
and it really humbles me
to be your girlfriend.

You have
invigorated me
for the long winter,
made me ache to
feel the cold in my lungs
as I tippy-toe to kiss you.


When you look at me
I can't breathe
because I've never seen anyone
see me that way.

Maybe it's childish,
but I thought romance was dead.
I never wanted to be
swept off my feet
or taken unawares
and somehow,
you did both without pissing me off.
(haha)

Years have passed since
I've felt warm.
These toasty lips of mine
want to thank yours

I know this sounds
elitist,
but I never thought
I'd find so much...
of everything I've really been longing for
in a math major.

:D

But I am so glad I did.

You balance me,
you keep me standing on my own two feet,
if only so that I can reach up and kiss you.

Thank you so much for everything you've done for me. You've given me gifts that mean more to me than I am capable of telling you right now. I already can't see the screen because I'm trying not to cry.
And a tear just fell onto my hoodie.
Yes, the red one.
I have rediscovered laughter, and smiles, and cuddles, and kisses, and warm beds. I am learning what it's like to fall for a math major.

So here's a formula for you...

(U + me) / distance
______________
(temp in my bed when you're there) - (average temp of my bed)

=

The heat it takes to melt this girl's cold heart.

Mulan by Sylvie Leigh

I put away my silks
and took up my sword.
I wore my hair short
And bound my breasts.
Instead of his blessing
I carried the name of my father
On my back like my shield.

Sword in hand,
I fought
Men twice my age
Men my father’s age
from the back of a horse
Four times my size
I learned a man’s touch
from the blows of his sword.

I fought in battle next to the best of men
Not one knew I was not one of them
I was not one of them

My hair kept shorn
Close to my face
To hide behind my mask.
I lost myself.

I lost on some battlefield
Along with my blood
The ability to heal the wounds inside
With warmth
Like a woman does.

Ten years in the bitter cold
taught me
The foolishness of silk.
The long winters
stripped me to solid core,
My warrior spirit,


I was a warrior
Not a woman
I was a warrior
Not a woman
But I was.

When I returned home after ten years,
My favorite silk kimono
Still hung by my bedroom door.
And my hair grew back.
And my hands grew soft.

But I did not.

Lady Lonely

Back and forth,
back and forth,
back and forth,
the chair rocks the lady I'm sitting with.

It's not the highest functioning wing of the ward
which means,
this lady before me is pretty much shell.
A carcass of a human body,
a reminder that life is fragile and
can at the same time destroy our souls.

My ear tunes itself to the creaking
my foot subconsciously tapping to
the sound of
the rock-ing,
the rock-ing,
the rock-ing
like a bassinet cradles the young,
and like a mother over her baby's bed,
I watch the lady.

She's not sleeping,
but she's definitely not here
in the sense that
she can tell you what day it is
or what time it is
or what she ate for dinner
or her name

My heart beats in time with her breath
In-Hale
Ex-Hale
In-Hale
Ex-Hale
and the cat at her feet stirs its tail
in protest of the lazy September sun.

I come on Wednesdays
to be in her quiet company,
because at least then
I'm not sitting in silence
at home.
alone.

AST 300

A few non-traditional students in my class.
One has Johnny-Boy rolled up jeans and big black boots
Ink on his skin peeking out from the sleeves he's rolled up

It's a little bit poser

but a lot attractive.

What to do about that brooding man in the corner...

Haiku Night, Attempt #1

Hearts bigger in you
than your body seems to fit
beat in tune with mine.

Haikus are very hard.
Forget what your teachers say.
I can't write worth shit.

Poezzi Romanesti

A Poem

Tell me, if I caught you one day
and kissed the sole of your foot,
wouldn't you limp a little then,
afraid to crush my kiss?...

That night you looked at me and said confront...

I'm going to lay it out for you.


There are
far too many holes in
what used to be human
what used to be a woman
to focus on more holes.

Let me lie and
lick my wounds before
pouring the salt from your lips into them.

Because nothing scrapes and hurts
quite so much as you
and the honesty dripping from your tongue
you know,
that tongue that i like to feel on mine.
that tongue that has
been more places than you're willing to claim
as explored, as yours.

and no, i can't lie about this,
not to you,
because I love you.
Dearly, harshly,
fiercely,
in the only wounded way I know how,
I love you.
but it will never be enough.

And that's just one of those things
those things you say I'm afraid of confronting,
one of those things I'll say to you
before this night is through.
I have nothing to give,
I have no love,
so the world around me
seems without a doubt
warmer than my own arms.

And
let me abuse my body
let me fill it with
enough poisons to forget

let me
drink up to drown
those voices in my throat
screaming out against the way you make me feel in your arms

let me kill the parts of me that
still feel
so I don't care when
that boy kisses me
in front of you

it's the same parts of me
that don't feel a thing
when i look at him,
when I look at myself.

Somedays I forget that
I feel anything at all
until I look at you
and I know,
at least if it hurts,
I'm alive.

and it always does.

and I know,
I know.
Nothing in you
could ever love
a thing like me
I know.

So please,
let me get this out.
Let me tell you,
in a confrontation to kill what's left,
I would love you if I could.
and I know you would never love me
because...
you have yet to give me a good enough reason to make me think you would never love me.

Since pain is my most powerful sense,
please,
if you want to be my friend,
try your very best to destroy me.

I spent all my life begging
not to be hit,
touched,
fucked,
sucked,
licked,
hurt,
and scarred.
And tonight I'm confronting what I need
and that's pain, from your hand.

I will use that as my reason to forget you, to cleanse my mind of you, and the drugs, and the sex, and the need for anything. When I know that you, my dear friend who does not love me, will never love me, I'll know.
It's ok then. It will all be ok.

I want you to make my place known to me. What is it exactly that I deserve? I'm putting myself in your hands, as I have on so many other nights, and asking you to deem me worthy, with the full knowledge that I never will be, that I never can be. That I am flawed and fucked up and out of love. I'm out of love, babe. I can't make it come out of nowhere, I have none to give you, I don't know if I'll ever be in love again and that's a fucked up thing to know about yourself. And nothing anyone can say will change that or make it hurt any less.
But, oh...pain. Welling up just enough to leak onto my cheeks and leave me. The only constant I feel, but at least I feel it.