In the sheets.

Turn into the driveway

Parked between 2 white lines.

Stereo still on.Waiting for you to arrive.


Car door opens greeting the cold.

Lungs filled with ice.

TipTap shoes climbing up concrete steps.

Long hallways with cheap green carpet.

"I can never seem to get the door open"

"It's cause you don't have magic fingers"

Set my bag down on the floor.Kick off my shoes.

You turn on the tv.Sit down on the bed.


Ontop of the covers,I press your arms into the matress.

"Go ahead and trrry to beat me.You know you're not strong enough"

"Well,you DO have a good 70 pounds on me.This battle is already unfair."

"Then yooooou should have never challeged me to a wrestling match."

"I like a challenge."

"Do you?"



Under the covers.Your body keeps me warm.

Pulled me close to you.

Head on your chest.

Blue light from the TV illuminates the walls and our skin.



I want to remember you this way.

Reaching out for me.Pulling me close.


The way your arms felt around me.


Waking up in the morning next to your bed head hair.

How my skin felt soft in your tshirt.


Before these moments became memories.

Denials.

Before somehow that part of you got left behind.

Lost in the sheets.

Painted.

" Yeah, but I already know you are insane...."

".. And for some reason, you have not run away.."


You paint my skin
In hues of blue
Purple
And the healing shades of yellow and green.

Each stroke of your brush sends a wave.
I am remined of you until the paint chips away.
But you will be here again.
your brush ready to make a new mark
To remind me of your unspoken words.

Soaked.

(A peice a wrote quite a bit ago.I thought it'd be a good starter entry :p)


Drunk.

2 liters of Bacardi watermelon was our poison tonight.

Poured myself a tall cup.

The boozy taste mingled well with an

Oranage soda and 7 up blend.

My blood was soaked with 70 proof

clear Puerto Rican sugarcane ethanol.

tonight was going to be a good night.

I could feel it in the air.


Stash a pack,out of smokes.


She grabs his hand and they go stumbling into the rain.

Giggling and whispering.

Soaked.Their clothes and shoes.Wet in puddles

And in the rain.

Kisses.Hard on the mouth.

Like this was an everyday occurance.

This was so natural.So normal.


Who would think anything else?

"Why do we have to be drunk every time we do this?"
He asks.

Well...she does it for him..she thought.

It was the only time he'd ever touch her in the past.

only if they had ingested enough vodka to be blind to emotions.


Well....fuck.


Slippery.wet.cold.They head back inside.



No smokes.

That got lost in translation.

Lying in her bed,they take off their wet clothes.

He pulls off her green sweats.

the sweats that used to belong to her ex boyfriend.

This moment defines something much deeper than any of them can imagine at the time.

Soaked.Her hands are covered in the blue dye from his hair.

she needs something..anything,to hold on to.

This really can't be happening.