I won’t apologize

I’ve met too many boys who loved my surface, but feared my depth. I’m a crazy, chaotic maelstrom of laughter, warmth and happiness, sadness and nostalgia. I’m a hurricane of colors, feelings and words, twisted and intertwined in one sweep of existence. I’ve accepted my complexity and I won’t apologize for it.


He doesn’t drink much, but he loves tasting the sweet kick of vodka on my lips. I love watching his delicious tongue put words together as poetry flowed out of his dirty, drunk mouth. He intoxicates me.