wine straight to belly
warm, plunging.
what a tragedy.
i want to feel you because i never got to
now tell me
you want your love to come and heal this damage, scarring
you want your love needed because you want me
like this wine, straight to the gut, drowning me.
ive despised and adored this meshed life, never knowing how to surveille love
how to portray it how to embody it.
ive given and taken yet somewhere i fear ive never loved, only thirsted over voidal instincts, over sentimental lacks.
dust these lids for the lights
frame these hips, arch my back keeping my basin
sawed through these bedsprings, i fear my own pain interests me
i fear this is all that life could ever be
exhilarating breath to soundless screech to foster me.
you say sometimes i belong a little too much to my thoughts and i tell everyone i live in my head- what a pair
if i can't figure me out why would you even  dare?
what's worse?
knowing your love is poured, another stain in this emptiness or not loving at all?
knowing you love a flowering corpse or searching for its rebirth?
is this love?
the one you tell me i so generously deserve?