It's Zenobia

I saved the quiet parts  To be filled later  When the want  Of emptiness Subsided  I tended them  In secret  As the world  Crumbled  Around my shoulders I hid them  Behind smiles  False ones  That echoed hope And then  There was you With real ones Honest ones  Eager ones That you shared freely Over the walls  That I had built And slowly Almost so That I didn't even notice There were petals  Of promise  That now fell around me And so I  Will let you in To these secret places These quiet places Because no one Has ever said my name The way  You do Because I have never felt it Touch against These walls  The way it does  With sweet ache  Off your tongue  Resting only  For a second  At your lips Before it reaches me And begs  With mirth To fill  The quiet

I really thought   I really thought     I really thought This could be something And really  I'm sorry  To say I was wrong I was gone  For a second  In my head  In this moment In this whole thing But its apparent that we Need  Different things And I can't be Anything  Less than I am anymore Nor  Can I be extra Or able  To pretend  That things inside me  Aren't broken  Aren't hoping For someone to hold them But you need  Sunshine And clear skies  And I  Am wrought  With rain clouds And downpours And you're Ill equipped For these storms And I need someone To be hard To see the bad stuff  The old scars And understand them  I need someone  Who will let me cry  And soothe me I  Don't  Want  Someone to tell me  That they don't care  About my baggage I want someone  To help me manage To hear it out  And help me salvage  What's...

  Seems to me There seem to be Not enough reasons For leaving For being On the other side Of this For seeing Any other side But his I offer What seem to me Valid justifications For taking Time To myself But he is certain They’re not worth The time they take To be felt  He's insistent  That this is  The place  I'm compelled  To disagree but he  Isn't one  To be held  Accountable  For his actions He's acting  On emotion alone He doesn't think  He's on the brink  Of the destruction  His emotions condone And I  Am of the mind That I need to be free Of this whole  Explosive  Endeavor  It's never his fault  But the faults  In our cause  Are exceedingly active  No docile  No placid  They give way  To earthquakes And the fallout  Is massive He sees only red He speaks only acid  Heartbeat speeds Too rapid  Too close to get clear Too active  And I am run...

Press your palm  Against the base Of my nape And the edge Of my waist Let that tongue Trickle down Low To that Place Where you are inclined To find Sugar from My fruit Fresh in Your mouth We turn up the heat As hearts beat Burning off steam Salt deposits On sheets Skin is licked clean Afterglow so bright That I might Be light beams I fight to bite Screams Off, lost in your throat As you catch My moans Inside Of your kiss You often do This Salt in my tears Appear and you get Delighted At your Skill to  Invite this  Hungry  Hot  Feeling Leaving  Me in puddles Rendered  Into  Simple Subtle  Basic  Human  Needs  Have me please Writing out My requests  Hard wood  At my knees Palms Pressed  In prayer Saying  They’re Open to suggestions Patient But practically begging Brimming  With want We  Work  Our way  First  To the welcome of sheets Hurt  For the welcome of knees Falling open...