Thought of Three



the evanescent thump of you

pervading in my inappropriate parts–


to the second gender that smells as sweet,

to the separate lender who I never keep,


sweep my wave again,

pulse my crave my friend


because there are where the words lie;

because this is why I cannot cry.




caught in the mind of me,

all in the thought of three.


Lips, Skin, Arm, Head

Sexy Neck (1)

Courtesy of

I was so ready to stop being so god damn innocent.



I like when you’re pretty;

when your shirt dips a little lower than it should.

I like when you move, and your whole body goes with you.

I layer, and my mind goes with me:


lips, skin, arm, head;

look at you. You’re a

painting, picture, perfect.

My porcelain doll

(don’t look- she might break).

I’ll look all the more:

break for me baby,

break for me,


He made me rhyme



she thought it was because of a kiss

or maybe just for lack of this

but his songs keep her coming back

to all she thought she had packed

this can’t bring him back, it didn’t before

it’s not even worth it, their friendship is more

but she can’t help but notice that her perfect man

looks more and more like her best friend…damn.

I don’t understand it cause he sure doesn’t see it

it’s not that she wants it, it’s that they just fit

cause perfect turned out a bit lopsided

she smiles to be so misguided

it must be him, she’s even changed her mind

look at this, she learned how to rhyme.

Remembering the Cotton Candy

Courtesy of

Courtesy of










Cotton candy memory of nights spent with you,

I can only hold onto it for so long.

The pinkness of first love and kisses

Marching next to Tomorrow of simple white and blue.



Sweet smiles are temperate;

Sweet kisses, shorter than that.

My hand is grasping, holding, waiting

Yours is just (still) out for something new.



How long can I wait,

How long can I hold on

For my pink dreams to reappear

And my white and blue to just become true.



But my dreams look more like memories now

and my fingers stick together

It would’ve been sweet; it would’ve been pink,

It would’ve been could’ve been short breaths and crazy coo ~of you.



So when do (did) I let go

And say enough’s enough,

Stop this dreamy hope

And decide the pink’ll do.

The Thought of you

Figuring it all out.



My motivation for so much more than I want it to be.

I’m independent, yeah.  But when I sit and my date won’t answer her phone all I think are crazy thoughts.  My desire for you, for someone, for anyone drives me to be desperate.  And believe me that’s the last thing I ever want.

My cool calm plan is blown out the window because I just want you to love me, and I always think you might not.  I want to be cherished, to be wanted not needed…but isn’t this just me, needing you.

It’s not you actually.  Don’t get confused.  I mean I like you, But I want you to be there for me.  To rub my feet; kiss my sweetly, but not long.  Hold my hand and smile at me. Bring me coffee in the morning.  Surprise me.  I just want you.

And right now that shape takes a form but you know I don’t expect you to be this.  It’s just this desire inside me and I can’t pretend it’s not there and since you fill my shape I might get you confused with my you sometimes.  I don’t mean to, but I think I do want to.

So I sit alone in my room and I just want you to call; but I don’t, cause you’re not him.  But I do….because I guess you are.

And this sudo name of “casual” is new for me, but I like it, love it in fact.  It’s just hard to get used to and “a girl’s gotta dream,” right?Image

Glassy Dreams Melting

Innocent thoughts and first kisses.  Still a sweet memory to look back on. I guess reality was not so bad. 🙂


He was perfect; then I kissed him.

Glassy dreams melting within the span of one spring break

It was spontaneous and oh so much crazy unthought out feelings of “I like you” and an implied “you’re perfect”

Then I kissed you, and it was perfect

Sleepy heads staying too close.  Breathing breaths to catch with your inhale.

Not caring that it was 4 and I had a test the next day;

cause when you love, midterms don’t matter.

So I kissed you, you and your silly smile and me and my giggle

It was slimy and we both laughed.

Then one of us (I can’t remember which one) woke us up to real life

and you drove me home to sleep.

I went to sleep with a smile, but I woke up with reality

He was perfect; then I kissed him.

Dreaming and Kisses

Remembering when I liked my dreams better than reality? …Sometimes I still do.


So I kissed a boy in the rain today.

For some reason the thought was so much better than the actual carrying out.

So why is it that we dream?  We imagine this ridiculously romanticized situation and we want it to happen.

I guess I might dream it up because it can happen, I can kiss a boy in the rain and it would be wonderful right.  But then when I get to the actual doing it’s never the same.  I mean it’s nice it’s just not “perfect;” its just not fairy tale feelings and perfect conversation.  It’s awkward and off time and I’m actually getting kinda cold.

So maybe I dream it just because it can never really happen.  I will never have a perfect moment.  As beautiful and spontaneous and crazy as life can be, that scene in my head is just impossible; and I think that’s why I love it so much.

If we could really live out our dreams then what would be the point of having them.  If perfect-cute-wonderful really is going to literally sweep me off my feet then why should I dream about it?  I would just go do it, right?

So I didn’t kiss a boy in the rain…I just dreamed about it.

And my crazy thought of realization is that that might’ve just been better.