PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In my head my touch is hitting the best brakes on your skin.

This is a stream of consciousness and I am so far below the gutter,

I’ve decided

maybe I kind of like it down here.

In my head we are tripping down the steps,

neither of us can dance fast enough

when we’re choking on these chemicals,

better than any waterfall and just as beautiful

because they mean I’ve learned to trust you.

In my head we are skimming, skipping sections,

the ones that don’t matter,

skipping a beat,

holding tight to all the best parts,

this desperate is the worst tornado I’ve ever been in

but I don’t feel it, I am right in the middle of the perfect.

I make up stories, something, nothing, maybe,

your touch has turned my response from a shy to a shiver,

please tell me you need it too.

I can’t feel the solid ground,

there is too much more I want in this moment to care about standing still,

in my head my fingers are pressing all the right buttons.

You can always get the juices flowing

a brush of your heat and words hit paper and

I hit the wall at the speed of sound,

you can draw out both the perfect pain and the pen.

This is how the mighty fall

soaked like the rain,

this is how the glory wavers

seeping from our souls,

I don’t need the sweet

when your sour is see-through and I love every minute.

This is a stream of consciousness and I am so far below the gutter,

I’ve decided

maybe I kind of like it down here.