Dear God

       Love traces my skin like the seasons linger across the memory. It could be the hottest day in summer or the coldest day in winter.       which do I choose?       Do I linger with the memories or flow with the change? Do I keep my leaves while it snows knowing they may wither.... Or Do I hope my passion doesn't catch flames like wood chips in blazing sun in the summer.          I wish summer and autumn intrigued me... but they never did more like blips in time enjoyable yes but not remarkable. I have always been in love with Winter but How I want Summer would make the snowiest day melt.          If I could explain...       Although the winter can be harsh, cold, distant and personified can be brash even cruel, there is something so unbelievable haunting yet comforting about it. The indoors, the closeness, those soft moments of what if, each sip of cocoa...

      Affirmations, the way it's spoken with sincerity. It's like a heartbeat in my ears now. One after the other reaffirming my value, my worth.       Tell me it doesn't end there.     Reminders of everything I already know yet casually forget. Even some things I may have took for granted or simply never thought to look at. Oh god the way it trails my body like a touch or a kiss, like a whisper only I can hear hours later.     Like a muse even, maybe a reminder from the universe of what I am trying to be... cold hearted or even scared of this, am I scared of myself?     And before I can focus, before I can doubt myself, I hear them again. You are so beautiful, so talented, smart, kind, funny, ambitious. It's a soft rhythmic chant matching every vibration, every touch and every shutter.          Beautiful affirmations.          Is there more? Do I want more? Do I expect mor...

    T aste just like coffee.       Especially when passion is mixed like melting chocolate on your tongue; each kiss a shot of expresso, lingering in the air like a fresh cup of coffee. I love coffee I can drink it daily;       I want it daily.       Is that so wrong? I love how sharp and bitter yet how sweet and soothing it can be the way it wraps every part of my senses, the way it can overpower the way my mind races to the point of over thinking.          I need more coffee.     A specific kind, one that I will know will quench the thirst I have been holding for weeks, one that seem to be crafted with all the right ingredients to satisfy every single sense in my body. A coffee made from the best of cocoa beans like the most decadent chocolate.     It's like an insatiable craving because even if it becomes too much it never seems to be enough. Do I ignore the craving? Do ...

     Do I thank you? It's not like I haven't been on dates; it's not like I haven't experienced things of that caliber, but what you did do was curate it. You planned it, you planned around me.      Do I thank you?     For setting a new bar, a new expectation? Do I continue to bask in this moment? was it just a moment? I feel like I should. It is a unique duality to feel both wanted and cherished. To feel deserving of wanting to be earned. I believe I am worthy of it as humble as I can make that sound.           It felt good to smile genuinely, to blush to giggle... to fawn. No performance no audience. Freeing even especially with each bite, each sip, each glance. Strange to feel the urge to want more yet feel satisfied. Like if I'm hungry for much more. Yet the experience is one I will cherish for a while, A stepping-stone, a reminder to what I know is fact.     But do I thank you?     It feels se...

       Was it delusional of me to feel more then what was being said? Was it delusional to believe in the actions that contradicted the words you said? Was I desperate and so hopeless that I choose to romanticize you? Has the white rabbit finally caught up? why does it still feel... real?     Probably because I am delusional. I placed you in the world that I created in my mind... Right? I always do that... Right? My imagination is big enough to create poems, songs and books, so I must have dreamt the things I thought about you too... Right?     I'm looking forward to the future; I am open to the possibilities but what if it's something only in my head. What if I never wake up? What if I always think with my heart first and mind second... Do I shut it off? Go cold and feel nothing?          I don't want to go back to surviving I want to live. I want to love and be loved. I deserved to be loved... Right? How can I trust I am...

       Eat me, the phrase lives in my head with every touch and every glimpse of your lips. Devour me my mind, my body, my soul until you have no choice but to pour into me. The sentence repeats like a consistent loop.       Barely a prayer. Barely a confession.     I want to be fully felt, appreciated and loved. Touch my body yes but understand my thoughts, my pauses, the parts of me that stay unspoken, because I already known how easily they can be misunderstood.     There is something undeniably sexy about wanting to be consumed, wanting to both trigger the beast and tame it. on the other hand, there is something quietly holy about wanting to be held by it too without being owned by it.         I don't want promises. I don't want permanence.      I want a presence that doesn't flinch.     Eat me, in the way attraction pulls at the skin. Devour me, in the way yearning reaches for t...