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Literature Text
I want you to kiss me.
Not because of you
or me, or us.
Not for a relationship.
Not for the promise of another.
But because I’ve looked
into the mirror these last four
years, and I’ve seen the same girl.
Four years tired
and a lifetime weary,
but the same.
And I’ve never been kissed before,
so I want you to kiss me.
I’m not rushing to grow up,
I don’t want to.
But I want to change.
I want to grow,
and still be the same.
So I want you to kiss me.
So I can grow, and still be me.
I want to grow
and not grow up.
Because growing up
is leaving. Growing’s just
changing.
And if I must be known,
remembered as a bit
of broken glass as you
age, If I must be remembered
when you die,
I want to be beautiful.
I want you to carve me beautiful.
So I want you to kiss me.
If I must be condemned
to melt into a drop
of water, indistinguishable,
I want to go a snowflake.
I want to shift irrevocably
and still hold still.
Then the fear of movement will fade.
I don’t want us to kiss.
But I want you to kiss me.
I want to grow
without leaving, if grow I must.
I want to go forward
and still follow from behind.
I want to carry myself
in my arms.
I want you to kiss me.
But I don’t want to be kissed.
Not because of you
or me, or us.
Not for a relationship.
Not for the promise of another.
But because I’ve looked
into the mirror these last four
years, and I’ve seen the same girl.
Four years tired
and a lifetime weary,
but the same.
And I’ve never been kissed before,
so I want you to kiss me.
I’m not rushing to grow up,
I don’t want to.
But I want to change.
I want to grow,
and still be the same.
So I want you to kiss me.
So I can grow, and still be me.
I want to grow
and not grow up.
Because growing up
is leaving. Growing’s just
changing.
And if I must be known,
remembered as a bit
of broken glass as you
age, If I must be remembered
when you die,
I want to be beautiful.
I want you to carve me beautiful.
So I want you to kiss me.
If I must be condemned
to melt into a drop
of water, indistinguishable,
I want to go a snowflake.
I want to shift irrevocably
and still hold still.
Then the fear of movement will fade.
I don’t want us to kiss.
But I want you to kiss me.
I want to grow
without leaving, if grow I must.
I want to go forward
and still follow from behind.
I want to carry myself
in my arms.
I want you to kiss me.
But I don’t want to be kissed.
Literature
Turn my words against me.
I want my words to take
root in your stomach and grow
up your esophagus, the calyx
of your tongue brushing the edge
of your teeth until the words blossom
from your lips in a slow
explosion of elegance, jawline
trickled with nectar, charming
hummingbirds and honeybees
with the promise of butterfly kisses.
Literature
a thousand lilac garlands
Your spine is a ladder, and she
braided it with flower crowns.
Her pressed-lace fingers coil tight
in the wet tangle of stems
as she climbs higher, kissing
the smooth bone with her toes.
She knew the only way
to your heart was through your mind,
but it's a mighty high ledge to reach
and her delicate palms just kept -
slipping.
So she braided your spine
with flower crowns to
keep her grounded, even as she
shinnied into the clouds.
Literature
Inordinate
-she's petrified
of being fixed
because being broken
is all she's ever known-
Suggested Collections
This is a piece not about wanting to receive my first kiss (or even to embark on a romantic endeavor, as though I'm eighteen, I'm not sure I'm mature enough for the immaturity it takes), but about realizing I'm growing and changing, and wanting to experience a change in myself to know that what I truly am will hold firm. Comments, as always, are appreciated.
© 2013 - 2024 Synesthi
Comments12
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Love your work as always I unerstan it all perfectly, indeed we are experiencing the same thing at the same time! I'm glad I found someone who understands and expresses it with words!:-D