never satisfied

Because only rock stars and writers can get away with such indecencies. It's all true.

[neversatisfied--blog]

He looks at me ilke I'm beautiful,

and tells me so.

You looked at me with arrogance

handled me so roughly

used me up, left me for loss,

up for the universe to grab ahold

and decide what to do with this pathetic girl.

He wants me, he wants me, he misses me so.

You walked away; he wants me to stay.

He wants us to stay.

[neversatisfied--blog]

But your feet are solidly planted to the ground,

They hold you up, they hold

us up.

And your hands are strong, too strong sometimes.

But I quickly forget.

[neversatisfied--blog]

Sometimes, I pray to burn and blaze gloriously, and meet death still on that high which youth entails.

[neversatisfied--blog]

myself

i can feel me losing me again

this screen this blank screen

is the only source of solace available

does that even make sense?

no. i don't mind.

no. i don't care.

which is worse.

now i know how it feels to hold love

to feel love

for someone else to give it openly

but never pressuring

you're amazing

but this is not

a love note

to you,

unfortunately.

this is my own messed up scribble

of my misguided year

i am terrified

so terrified

of what they will say

when i call the registrar's office tomorrow

you believe in me

'beautiful, talented, understanding'

i can't believe you.

but really

i think,

i think

i would give you up

for this

i mean

i found myself

i am myself....

now.

but the thing is

i am so scared

that when i didn't know myself

when he took myself

when he grabbed

me and ripped my drive and heart and thought

right out of my grasp

and I am so angry

because he had no right to do that

none whatsoever

nobody does

and why the hell did he do that

I know, don't place the blame,

you only have yourself to blame.

You only have yourself.

But that's just it, I didn't have myself.

COLLEGE.

UNIVERSITY.

GROWING UP.

is about finding yourself.

Myself.

But I knew me, I knew myself

in high school.

And then I was thrown into that empty place

thrown into the dust and left.

(I'd much rather been stomped on.)

(Then I at least would have felt something.)

But now,

now I am so fucking terrified

that those repercussions,

those waves will expand and

will have grown with power over the last few months

and kill this,

kill my dreams.

Because, I don't know what I will do,

if I don't have school.

Concussed, surely.

I am surely losing myself. 

[neversatisfied--blog]

i miss your gentle yet strong hands

i miss your diminishing hair and your scruffy face

your quirky smile and your happy smile

your come-hither smile and your come-fuck-me smile

i miss your voice, i miss your truths

i miss your stumbled charm and your honesty

and its influence on me

i miss your skin

i miss it sliding against mine

smooth and loving

or sweating and shaking

i miss your snores

you passed out beside me

missing you while you dream

i miss your awkward dancing

where you try so hard for me

silly silly loopy I'm loopy I know

i miss the beatles and the rain and the attic

i miss trodden-upon toes and stomachs and chests pressing

fingers clasped and warm breath on necks

i miss your words

how they make me feel

how you feel

how i make you feel

your inflections

your everything

your love

[neversatisfied--blog]

I Should Have Said No

I should have pushed you away, I should have said fuck you, pushed you away, away from my body my feelings you cannot use someone like that you cannot make someone feel like that

worthless, dirty, broken, ashamed. 

You're a bastard. You get it from your father. I think I will blame you for a long, long time for all the shit that happened, will happen to me. You don't deserve my affection you certainly do not deserve my friendship. I wish your sister would talk to me. I wish your family wasn't going through this turmoil, but they are. But that is no excuse for treating a human being your friend like they're a cheap fling you picked up in the bar last night. 

[neversatisfied--blog]

boys

I mean, sometimes they're sexy and smoldering and make you really horny with their nice backs and shoulders and arms and white white teeth and deep eyes which seem to say something else and sometimes he's cute and bubbly and you just want to cuddle with him and watch a stupid movie while he presses kisses against your forehead and sometimes you want to stay up all night talking to him because he feels like your best friend and you would rather just be, just be there on the phone listening to him breathe than do anything else, but most of the time, most of the time, they're oblivious idiots.

[neversatisfied--blog]

When Everything Starts to Be Better, Then Things Really Begin to Pick Up, Then It All Falls to Shit

You hook up with your best friend's brother, who in turn happens to be one of your closest friends, and the kissing and the touching and the everything was really fucking hot good and then you weren't sure if you were interested in him or not because the two of you have been flirting forever a while but you know you shouldn't like him that way because he's your best friend's brother and you can't tell her and he won't talk to you and you feel ashamed and guilty as fuck and like shit because it looks like you've lost one of your closest friends and you're lying to one of your other friends and it's really awkward when you're at their house and then a few months go by and you're forced to tell her because you hear that he told people but later you find out that wasn't the case at all so then you're even more upset at yourself but anyway you finally tell her and instead of being angry or feeling betrayed she just says she's a little weirded out but "gets it" and offers to make you dinner because she is just an amazing and understanding person but of course she's making breakfast for dinner and what does she make but what he usually makes when you stay over but thankfully he's not home because you just can't deal with that right now and then a few weeks later you end up picking him up from tennis practice because you're a good person - right - and then you get pulled over on top of all that and the cop's an asshole to the nth degree but thankfully you don't get a ticket and later that night at dinner you end up sitting directly across from your former-friend/hookup/you don't know what and it's reallyreallyreallyfucking awkward and you both just stare at your plates pointedly not looking at each other and then he finally breaks the silence and you're so grateful, so thankful, and then things start trending back toward normal but because you never talked about it there's still this "what the fuck?" undertone to all of your conversations and existence but then a few days ago two to be exact you and your best the two of you went to an all-day festival and then went back to her house where she ended up crashing on the couch and you and the brother boy guy end up squished at the other end of it sharing each other's space and he playfully tugs on your hair and you tap him on the nose and smile and smile like syrup and you're just talking just talking but at one point he's telling you a story and you're looking into his eyes giving you undivided attention his eyes which are maybe twelve inches away from yours and you're looking into his eyes and he's looking back and not looking away and not looking away and then you realize neither of you have said anything for a few moments and if this were a romance novel romance movie someone else's life one of you would have leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss across the other's lips but no you are here in his living room and his parents are home and his sister your best friend is on the couch so you blink and the spell is broken and you sigh internally and he continues with whatever he was saying and you're warm too warm but there is never enough heat never enough haven't you been saying you haven't been warm since that night a few months ago and he's brushing against you his angles so familiar and the two of you giggle and later he shows you something he was reading for school and there's an innuendo a double entendre and he asks do you get what that means and it's about revving engines and combustion and hot steel and of course you know what it means and you look at him and he looks at you I mean really looks and he says "sex" and oh my god yes I know believe me yes and you just want to step forward into his arms but of course you don't because how the fuck did you go from just starting to be normal to this to where you were exactly a few months ago which is normal you suppose and then you go home and dream about him accosting you in his kitchen lifting you up setting you on the counter and you kiss and you kiss and it's too hot but still not enough and your head is swimming and then you wake up and you finally, for the first time since everything changed, remember exactly how his lips feel how they taste and you go to bed the following night satisfied and you wake the following morning with the taste of him in your mouth and having had another dream where he said some things, some things you suppose you want him to say to you in real life but they're not cliché, they're just so so intimate and truly both of you truly true and you spend the following day wondering whether or not they're actually real.

[neversatisfied--blog]

the sun reflecting in the morning dew

is the color of the scarf you used to wear

wrapped around your neck, under your hair

I close my eyes under blue skies

and I can still feel your cheek on mine

breath flows against my neck

a cool release in this embrace

and as you pull away, my heart begins to rip

it’s raw, stretched thin

readily bloody, redly swollen

all I ever wanted was

someone to hold me

it’s tender and fragile

don’t touch, I will shatter

all she ever wanted was

someone just to ache

for her at night

[neversatisfied--blog]

hum

Standing next to you at the party today I felt like your girlfriend your girl yours and we the group were all talking and laughing and reminiscing and storytelling in the late afternoon breeze but you mostly stayed silent, a comfortable silence and your presence was constant, just existing next to me, at one point I heard you chuckle, I could feel your body hum and I looked up and caught your eye and you smiled. You smiled so big, so happy and I felt like I was yours, you were mine, it was like old times, like last summer, and I smiled and my body smiled, and I am happy.

[neversatisfied--blog]

An important thing college has taught me is…

I am my friends. Without them, I don't know who this is. I know my name, but I don't know what it means; what the history is what I have accomplished + failed. I know what I look like, but why? How did I come to present myself as such? And to be clear, I don't need friends, I need mine. My mental, witty, over-dramatic, take-over-restaurants, don't-know-what-a-watch-is, hungry, driven, brilliant friends. With no one to reflect my image back at me, I am a lone mirror. Twenty mirrors or so refract a thousand different ways. I am a lone mirror, so I reflect nothing.

[neversatisfied--blog]

flashes

I still get flashes of you,

sense them in my daily doings.

I pour a glass of milk

your fingers are fluttering against my hip,

I start my car

you offer me your hand,

I check my reflection in the mirror

hot breath against my lips,

listen to the strains of a quiet guitar

your completely unguarded smile catches me,

I lift my paintbrush

you ask if I'm okay,

and surprise surprise

I lay down at night

you yank my thigh higher

thrust to meet my hips

cheek against cheek.

[neversatisfied--blog]

So where exactly are we now? We’re safe, we’re even but we are nowhere near whole I’ve nearly forgotten what it feels like for you to hold me in your arms in your brain to have our inside laughs and understanding. Nearly.

[neversatisfied--blog]

cake

When I make cake, it’s always because I’m in need of a therapeutic distraction. When I make cake, I always leave way too much batter in the glass bowl at the end, thinking, “Yeah, I’ll want this.” By the fourth or fifth time the wooden spoon makes its way to my mouth, dripping with the yellow stuff, I nearly want to throw up. It was good, great even, to start with, but the sweetness becomes too much for me all too soon. I force myself to finish though, since why let it go to waste?

Kissing you was a little like eating leftover cake batter. When I bake, I’m taste testing the entire time. And along the way without knowing it, I’ve been testing you. To see whether you’re worthy, whether or not you want this; were you craving a taste of this, and if so, how badly did you want it? It wasn’t that you offered too much sugar; on the contrary, you gave me so much more. I was young again. I didn’t want to stop eating the batter, because it was never enough. It was such a rare occasion that I ever had any. But it wasn’t – isn’t – good for me. The difference between my six-year old self and now, is that I know better, I know what I should stay away from. Usually.

I was good enough to sample, to taste, but in the end you didn’t want the whole little cake. You wanted a corner piece, a safe piece. Easy enough to sneak a bite of without delving into the center; by doing that though, you missed out on the soft gooey center, the lushness of the experience, the hidden surprises. By taking a corner piece, sure, you got a taste, and it was great, but by not making the commitment, you missed out on so much.

The thing with me and cakes, I always make another. 

[neversatisfied--blog]

you say

your hands are so little

so small, like you.

and inevitably,

we hold our palms flat against each other

comparing, feeling;

I try to pull away

before the truly inevitable

but you catch my hand

folding my fingers with yours

[neversatisfied--blog]

It’s late and I’m sitting around in my underwear and a bathing suit top and it’s hot and it’s hot and sticky and finally summer and I am unbelievably freaking horny and all I can think of is your hair your hands your sweaty skin your mouth on mine.

[neversatisfied--blog]