Saudade is the word for more than lacking

which is what i am without, but I'm not lacking in the heart

I'm lacking in touch. I'm lacking in breathe. I'm lacking in vigor. 

Because your words were hallow to my ear, numbing to my heart but sent bursts of blood flowing past my veins and robbed me of my breathe, injecting me with the purest most valuable laughs I've had laced with humble kisses dropped at every bone.

Bones that lay unhappily in skin scarred, cut, bruised, stretched, and worn.  Your thick hands trace me, embrace me, and interlace me. 

Shh, be quiet. That's what cosmopolitan told me. 

Because, the less words spoken the less your bond will hold

No Strings Attached No Strings Attached

No Strings Attached No Strings Attached

But every single time your hands touched me, it was as if you had held the thickest needle against me and dug it threw my skin, unknowingly, only to rip the threads without a care as if i was a loose end on a sleeve. 

" Eat, Please. You're not fat. I made it for you." 

"Lay here baby"

Saudade is when I close my eyes and forget how it feels to be under your body, being pressed by your hips, sprayed with your sweat, and  kissed by your brittle promises. 

With my tongue pretzeled in my mouth, walking on melted gum sitting on the pavement sheets with a flask of vanilla flavored rum in hand and a strawberry popsicle dripping down my wrist, you'd tell me the sky is blue, but out of the stubborness of my heart I'd still look up because sometimes the sky is pink and sometimes people lie. 

Your kisses followed my line of symmetry and down down down to where gold drips untouched

yet, on my knees I feel small but only the afterwards is worth it.

Saudade ached in my heart that time i sat in your arms and had the most tainted kisses given on an invisible bloody trail of tears resting on my cheeks.

" You're beautiful.. did you know that?" fell out of your mouth and slapped me right in the face as you tucked back the strands of petrol behind my ear. Blankly staring at you I stuck a smile on and said " I know". 

I Know because I, along with dozens -"No, I'm being serious. Honestly."- of others, have been slapped in the face with the same old card and I refuse to thank you for doing what you're doing. 

What are you doing?- Please Stand clear of the closing doors-

"Why are you looking at me like that?" eyes closed, laying bare in your bed, half asleep and I stare at your face, "carving the face of the guy who I will remember for the rest of my life in my mind" is the truth, but a simple "Go back to bed" will suffice. I stare because I know that the times-ticking and soon I'll be nothing but a number.

Looking for some sort fountain of escape that would distract me because i know of nothing under the sun, and when winter comes like bleach it scrubs the walls of warmth and memories leaving my mind as bare as a field of freshly fallen snow and my hands turn as cold as I, I'll miss your touch. your smiles that interrupted hungry kisses.

Kisses that were lent to lips that constantly crave, birthing lies and lighting flames, swallowing hunger and clinging to the hope given by fortune cookies trapped in a shoebox under the bed.

You and I, like all, were born under sun and sin

and when I look, I see my eyes, the color of eden, reflecting into yours, and from yours to hers and from mine to his and from his to hers, winter to spring, spring to summer, memories slip like sand through my fingers, and no matter how tight I hold my fingers together, they overflow and squeeze between the cracks, melting into the earths confidential surface they lay ancient with no direction, only to be read and know by god and the stars.