rapscallion.

waking up next to you.

bare-shouldered, warm underneath my lips.
legs lazily searching for each other under the tangled sheets.
eventually finding each others eyes amongst our bodies’ conversation.
morning adrenaline struggles to push my atoms into frenzy,
but all they do is smile, swimming in the vulnerability.
slipping in and out of consciousness, pleasantly aware of
my back against your chest.
the light pokes through the shades, and your eyes become
the focal point my atoms spin around.
 

i could feel a past friendship ringing in the distance as we sat across from one another.
i suddenly became acutely aware of how little thought i’d put into how this interaction would go.
words, words that weren’t me falling out. filling in what she didn’t understand,
substitutions for the raw and real, softening my tongue. 

i feel like i’m never paying enough attention.

but you tend to cloud the details of my mind,
slinking your way into how i wake up in the morning,
making me pull the sheets a little tighter,
breathe a little deeper,
smile a lot more.
 

things and words worth waiting for take patience.
i’m so far ahead of myself sometimes that I forget
normal people wait. normal people are caught up
in the meals they eat, the books they’re reading,
the friends they see. and all i can seem to be
caught up in is you. 

your laugh is so sturdy, i could do cartwheels on it.
but sometimes i get stuck between the silence, unsure
as to whether i should sit and wait between the words.
i can wait for days, but you’ll hear the waiting in my
voice. you’ll hear me waiting for, “i miss you”. 

your chest pressed against my back,
finger tips curling around each other.
my cynicism can’t catch up with my happiness.
you make me so damn happy.
 

i’d rather jump this ship than be pushed off.
i’d rather think it my choice, than see the facade of my trust. 

tight jaw, focused eyes.
you move me so much. 
plunge me into this life, I
could hold your hand forever. 

you were so beautiful and unattainable sitting by my side.
there were moments i hated you, but entire days and weeks
that I longed for your embrace, no matter how half hearted
they always seemed to be. i could cling to the good right through
the bullshit, like a child savoring his last few minutes on the playground.
fighting all of my natural tendencies, i told you you were wrong about me.
you were wrong about how much i wanted to hold you,
how much i wanted to talk. i wanted to talk so damn much.
those words? they’re still in me somewhere, drifting to sleep
as the days pass and the distance solidifies. but i’m nearly certain
that words of hurt never die. they drift. they drift into other
conversations, trying to find a place outside of my mouth.
they know they were meant for you, discontent with any other
listener. i tried to tell them that they’ll be discredited quickly,
you’re terribly clever with undressing my words, calling them
into your bed. holding them until your hormones turned cold.
they’ll never be what they want to be in your care.