You say —
"Tomorrow is another day."
Like it's a good ******* thing.
You don't know about
My yesterdays but
My todays are numbered.
I'm falling away,
Giddy in the undertow...
Howling at the moon.
I want to write sonnets on your skin
with my tongue —
Eat your boiling core like a starving wolf.
Give me a reason
To stay,
And I'll dance, whirling in the craters of
your soul.