Writing

He attacks me suddenly 

Erupts like booming thunder

And all I do is wonder

If things will ever change 

Because I feel his heavy power

Quick hands 

Sharp teeth

Ready to devour 

On my sixteenth birthday.

I curled into a ball in the frayed, silk afterglow of childhood, 

If all the words in the world were gone

And we were left with the thoughts in our heads,

The list of things to say wouldn't be that long,

If I had one sentence to speak before sentences were dead. 

I want your freckled cheeks and blond eyelashes

and I want your flying hair

and I want your careful words that start tumbling fast,

woven together,

please

so I can wrap myself up

and remind myself of happy.

Dear, that fifteen minutes, a week

less than.

all it took for you to worm your way in. 

A day. A moment. A lifetime crammed between seconds.

a bond that is a force to be reckoned with.

Intelligence is both a beauty and a curse, a double edged sword gifted to humanity.