it isn’t love or lust

it is hunger

and being cold and warm

in my tired parts

We’re asked if we

have any questions

concerning your research

But I’m more interested

in asking which neighborhood

you grew up in

What did you eat for breakfast?

And how was your commute

I hope you are enjoying the sun, and that

tonight treats you well

But that is not appropriate

in helping you formulate your thesis

I have lived around brown eyes my entire life

With soul, and earth pressed into them

Eyes so brown not even the sun could sway them

with lies and whispers of a new atmosphere

Brown, like beans and chocolate

dark and soft, and sometimes cranky

But I have never witnessed a blue like yours

No metaphors of oceans or floral arrangements can define your eyes

bright and shy, a song that carries off when your lids collide

blue

electric, sustained, and sweet

minty as the Colgate that touches my teeth

and how I’d love to drink the color away

to absorb its strength and neon trace

but my eyes are a bold brown

unrequited of your blue haze 

Bad diets keep us up at night
Eyelids fighting sleep
While your brain pieces together the million things that aren’t restful
Just stressful, unnerving, and nauseating
Two chocolate bars a day equals an hour of thought dedicated to your
triumphant kneecaps
An extra spoon of sugar sprinkled on my generic brand of cereal
is your creamy, unsweetened faith on my thighs
And the 8oz glasses of water
I neglected for impulsive gulps of 
a carbonated drink
murder every cow and sheep sought out to help me dream
No pleasant thoughts, just pleasurable images
And distasteful bickerings I imagine us having over
a morning’s cereal
Or sodium lined plantains
that manipulate the speed of our half crumpling hearts
I bought some broccoli and a bag of mixed nuts last week
to remind me of the bad choices I make for my aging body
But I’d much rather stay up nights
distorting infomercials to the sound of your lapping tongue and a wishful bed that isn’t begging to be slept on
I promised myself I’d fix my diet
To less than seventy percent of
my guilty treasures
In exchange for a more realistic sentence of 7 or 8 uninterrupted hours without you
But I love me some glucose
and I don’t much mind your invasion of my pantry of pacing and chasing someone else’s possessions

 I forgot what sex feels like

When it’s covered with love

Instead of tainted lint-filled sheets

A mattress

with noises louder than our frowning bodies

and the lights out so deep

that we avoid the truth etched on hidden faces

The only realization of our presence is

the warmth of pasty skin and liquid arguments

shedding against the salted atmosphere we have

formulated

And when the street lights reveal

Numb faces, street chases, and undone laces,

A sock slips on, a shirt, and all the evidence thrown

On a hardwood floor

Runs out of your door

All this, rushed and violent

is not how it always has to be

I cried

watching a film that I’ve cried for

some million times

And I cried

reading a novel that I’ve read

twice before

I have let my chest sink into my stomach

And my knees buckle for moments that are renewed

A new kind of cry, a new stain of tears

to mark your absence in my life

So novels are no longer words from another’s

perspective

And movies an escape to someone else’s love

life

or family

You are in every undeveloped filmstrip

behind some desk at a pharmacy

Untouched, somewhat forgotten

With too many memories

Novels, movies, and the hum of some tune - 

I’ve put some distance between myself and they

Afraid you’ll find your way back to my

burning eyes

and I just don’t want to cry

it’s a shame

how easy it is to 

fall in love with someone

I’ll try not to write in clichés

When I first let my eyes pass over you, pale and tired

sitting with more than desires and half beaten hands laying script

over your paper

my heart might have buried itself deep

deep into the small space that my other organs take refuge in

deep and steep like my breath

After that instance, you’ve altered the way my lungs heave in and out

It is a test of survival

quick and small breaths like

I’m treading on tip-toe at a gas station

and I won’t blame the rain on my creaking knees

that fail to hold me up in moments I’m closest to you

on the same sidewalks that you’ve allowed the soles of your shoes to slide against

and the creaking is worse

when we’re in the same room

I’ve counted the opportunities I don’t deserve

sold myself short on one too many occasions

and basked, in secret, of the trail of your breath

against a New York winter’s gale

will it ever be more than this

hunger

ijustsaywordssometimes:

you said you hate push up bras

because they’re liars

even if they’re supportive

and i said that sounds like you

which is bitter

and if i keep adding my two cents

i’ll be poor in more ways than one

but if i ever find a wishing well

i’ll wish you well for a change

and if i don’t find one

…

I am allergic to your star dust
encrusted skin drenching me 
In sneezes and fits of barbaric
hacking
I am not immune to your monstrous laughter
And voluminous kisses your chewed lips
drab on my too scarred skin
Your tangled smiles
Smudged eyelids brimming with your salt intake
leave me to defecate
breathless and entangled in your 
muddled mess
Liquid dresses
glued to my thighs
On those false nights
of obscured lights and fights
You spill your guts
as I’ve spilled mine
on mahogany floors and plastic covered love seats
As a swinging bulb flies by
And to write in the least
of expressions I pray not accustomed to
Done am I
with the sneezing
itching
and laughter spewed with coughing
Keep your scent to yourself
as I hide away such thoughts