Seeking another intimate violation,
my skin calls out for you.
I’d rather leave the wound fresh as a reminder
that there’s no coming back from this,
that nothing else compares.
I hate this desire, this ache,
this need.
I feel your absence in my bones.
I don’t know what to do.
I see the hurt in your eyes
even as you try to hide it.
You choose your words carefully,
your sharp tongue cuts me up.
As you walk away, you stop
without turning, eyes ahead,
and I feel the burn.
Then you disappear into the dark.
I can’t take back the bad I’ve done
or the deceit I’ve sown.
But I’m addicted to you,
and I shamelessly follow.
Our full moon eyes eclipsed,
and now I shy away
from the potential we conjured
over many late nights.
Logic enlisted, now we’re back to crushing souls -
meaning delayed, we’re relying on magic
to unlock the depths of tides, but
all our vibes shy away.
The feeling is there, I swear,
but something inside
won’t let me see it through.
I don’t want to ruin you, so
slow down fair-weather friend.
We’re rolling the dice tonight,
I’m fighting my nature and
you’re just looking for a fight.
Her words drive me wild.
I'm feral for her -
powerless to her persuasion.
Maybe in another life
our spirits intertwined
or maybe I just
lust after her syllables
in every lifetime.
Her seduction is real
and I’m back to casting spells
to ward off her spirit.
I leave the blood on my hands
as a warning to others.
Sacrifices abound,
yours not mine,
but in time I find the flaws
in my reasoning, and
I know I shouldn't
(and won't) ask for
that which I want most.
I pray this isn't
the end of the line
but this time I understand
the folly is all mine.
The truth leaves a mark, and
another lump in my throat.
I’d stand aside
while you’re winding me up.
Got me geeked and teed feverishly,
keeping track of my feet
by tripping repeatedly.
Whose side are you on, Eternity?!
I’ll weather your more trechered
infinities; bind myself to time always waiting
for the right rhyme to strike and knowing
it’ll be the death of me.
I’m currently possessed by my
selfish selflessness,
trying to pry decisions
from my muted tongue.
History’s a bitch, but I
think I’ll let it slide this time alongside
the most wishful of my thinking:
leave all the best things unsaid.
