Corrupted mind, compromised
and bloated with images of you.
I need to stop your every breath
from inspiring me.
Do you feel exploited by my thirst for you?
I am selfish desire.
To be is to want, and
I know I exist
(especially in your presence).
To build is to break, and
I long to create
(you demolish me).
Am I courageous?
Am I destructive?
Will I ever escape these lines
I've drawn around myself?
My silence speaks louder than my actions:
I am a slave to this lust.
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