this lust.

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.

control (ii).

I will allow you
to conquer me,
let you think
you're in control.

flesh n bone.

her gravity*

{a stronger attraction than
previously thought possible}

pulls the flesh from my bones
and I, all too happily,
watch her feast.

imaginary lines.

My mind,
curiously clouded by
your infestation,
dares not dream
for fear of
crossing imaginary lines.
I cling to my wound
with all my might
as I fight off
this lustbeast
calling out your name.
Don't blink.
You're all I care to see.

mirage.

These baby blues are only for you
and each glance is tempting fate.
With my blind desire leading,
I’m daring you to see me -
to sense my wretched incongruity.
Every night I sharpen my tongue
urging these words
to find their way passed my pen,
but as I digress my tone resets.
It’s so bitter sweet as you
suck the air right out of me.
I’m left without words, staring aimlessly.

she knows.

I'm wrecked, passionless,

craving a friend or foe,
one for the road, and
a better mind than my own.

Her eyes in the sky
turn this desert to diamonds
and I feel the heat.
I can't see through this
waking reverie she's crafting
just for me.

I think she knows...

control.

I want you to
destroy me.
Completely.
Leave me in shambles.

You're in control.

pathetic fluorescence.

My eyes stick to you like glue,
there’s no use,
with arms outstretched
you hold all my attention too.

Yeah, okay. I hear it.

But
I’m stranded in this depraved state,
starved for sunlight,
and helplessly captivated
by this image of you I’ve carved
into the surface of the moon.

Every night I howl for you.

the last time.

It feels like I'm outside your window
begging to be let in.

And I swear this'll be the last time
just like the last time before.

I can't say why I can't let you go,
all I know is
if I don't hold on to something
I might just float away tonight.

lady lawyer.

She says that she loves
that I still have dreams.
Bigger things.
And not to tell her,
she can’t afford to be sad for me too.
She’s fortysomething
and always blue.