I am split
the way your skin feels against mine is
unfair
when you kiss my hair and I lean back
into you
I am into you
I was just getting out from under you
over you
but seeing you
makes my heart race and
touching you
resting my head beneath your chin
feels like coming home

my home has always come
with silky lining and a sense of danger
a soft flower with thorns
it is in my nature
this flavor of safety then danger
it flows through my veins from that
moment in third grade
when I learned what love feels like

but beneath that sickly sweetness there is
something real
it rests in the lines around your eyes
when you smile
and in the way my hand only knows
to touch you

it is demanding
commanding my body to listen
“Listen! This doesn’t come along often!”

my resolve softens –
my favorite flowers have thorns
and my fingertips are not afraid of their feel

I am torn
war-worn
everything in me says “this”
and yet I keep myself at a distance
this resistance
is consistently the thing keeping me alive –
but is it keeping me from living?

again, I look in,

I am split.