Guilty

Of my sins,
i said before there’s 7,
you, my eight.
I am guilty and the tarot confirms it.
Guilty by my own ruling.
My desire grows beyond my limits,
“There are no limits”
read with your voice in mind.
You unleash something that wants me out of place, outside my head –

this reality is happening, but I condemn its morality and get all bratty about it.
Let me play with your body, without feeling any shame, let you touch my soul with your mercurial powers- I have stripped bare bones and I’m not sure you’re aware.
It feels so big within me, the inner experience consumes me,
I only feel liberation when you ask me to,
it’s wrong to want me the way I do-
the way I show up in your room.
I thought I could speak and take up space,
the night-scene is not at your bed.
No matter how much they could overlap, I have been unable to blend my body to my mask… Your hands take it off every time.
I had to take off my shirt to feel the heat of your heart.
It bothered me that I wasn’t close enough, it annoyed me that I wanted you too much.
I want you in my taste buds and I love to give in before your eyes.
Staring directly at my spirit,
I hide but you pull me back.
Killed me and I was reborn,
you did it,
but I blamed it on my true speech and I try to brush it off as something that stings.
It’s an itch that won’t let me rest,
the issue being I can’t handle the nakedness-
of how vulnerable my psyche comes to be when you ask me to name the things I refuse to acknowledge.
You’re a grown up and I feel like a foolish little girl.
Even when you ask me for the sweets in the pantry, I’m a burning teenager every time I feel challenged.
Running and asking you to forget about it,
¿why won’t you let me play cool while I’m visibly incandescent?
The deepest of my unconscious architecture seems to be floundering because of you.
I open my mouth just to close my eyes, the intensity is turning me purple.
I try to remain silent, don’t question me about it, I seem to do it too.
Analysts of my behavior, thank you for mirroring with intention- ¿what now tho?
The laundry room was the perfect example, but ¿do you notice? I bring my hands to my face, I shake my head, and I reproach like I didn’t just asked to have it.
Please
Help me ease into the reality that keeps me here every night.
The way I open the door and everything else after that.
I look at your face and the unfamiliarity makes me think I’m losing my mind.
If we came from the same places, kind of like we still have, it would only make me repeat the same patterns I’m chained to.
Tripping and you didn’t care.
Even when I was a mess.
I understand the concerns, of when I refuse to behave.
I’m feverishly refusing you, only because I yearn it, like resurfacing for air after I dived into the water.
I have written about these contracts, I claim bold ownership of my body, and I research like no other- the industries and the psychologies.
The way you approach it,
I’m disarmed,
not a fan.
I want to fight and I want to end the anxiety I feel when I’m not in control.
Instead I’m wondering,
if yielding is enough for you.