2 points for honesty.

i would rather be honest and dead,
than hiding, lying, and living.

and so,
i continue,
and will continue,

to wear unwavering vulnerability on my potmarked skin until the ashes shake me to nothingness,
and injure these already open lips in the struggle to speak words heavy with unhibited hit or miss

reject me,
if you must or if you want,

i simply may not be the one for you,
or this might not be the time,
you may not understand me,
or feel averse to trying,

all i want

is to mean what i say and say what i mean,
to tell you who i am, and everything i want to be

all i want,
is honesty.

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i'm coming home in a month, loves.

and i am asking for a hug, or a kiss, and for us to bump biggie smalls in the streets of san francisco at dawn,
stopping by taquerias in the mission for dinner, and the fillmore concert hall by night. all i want is to be 21 and kick it kitchen style on those purple couches, munching on jewey kebab, drinking middle eastern apple tea, no sugar please, and watching too many movies, or talking about things that matter so much that it hurts to close your eyes and sleep with the deluge of ideas, because the flood it is a'comin. all i need is to cuddle and fearlessly share all that we've every hoped for and talk until our voices are too raspy to breathe.

everyday that comes before and follows,
i plead for truth between us.

i look forward to seeing ya'll,
i am itching to discover your beauty all over again.

sleep tight.
i'm drunk, and hungrier than usual.

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