This is actually an old piece

He rubbed his nose along the back of my neck, tickling me. Lying on the couch, me cocooned within his arms, he parted the hair on my neck and kissed it, short little pecks all over my spinal region. He stopped kissing and just lay there, lips still igniting infernos of butterflies in my stomach by simply resting, warm and full, against me. His breath warmed my neck, condensing slightly. It was okay though. It was a sexy kind of condensation. He wrapped his arms more protectively around my torso, burying his nose in my hair. I grinned. I loved moments like these, small, secretive moments where words would disrupt the exploration of each others very beings. Moments in which we were one, yet were separate entities, synchronized breaths and hearts telling otherwise. Words would never truly sum up what I feel in these times, try as I might, I'll never be able to explain. No words do any of it justice. But three small, monosyllabic words come as close as possible.
"I love you," he breathed into my hair.

Thursday, May 21, 2014

My dad buried my dog the other day.

 I sat in front of her grave yesterday. I haven't seen her in months She was hit by a truck and I saw her when we thought she'd get better. She was getting so much better. Everything seemed fine.

A girl killed herself.

I didn't listen when her friend told me that she was going to. I've got to live with that. A girl is dead. But now she's with her mother. It looked like she would get better. Everything seemed fine.

My mother thinks I'm a whore.

I had sex with someone I love. It wasn't a crime. She told her best friend. Now the whole town knows. She started looking in my eyes again. Things were getting so much better. Everything seemed fine.

It isn't.