Well you got it alright,
and you've over taken me,
to the point where I look like I'm not moving,
I'm just something of the past now,
no authority,
not good enough,
out of work,
failing education,
can't look after you,
I just weigh you down,
and cling on for dear life,
hoping you won't change,
as rapidly as you're progressing,
don't know weather my once strong words,
mean anything any more,
I'm worried that I'll be left crawling behind,
I have a question to ask you in a few months time,
I don't think it's the obvious question,
but I don't think I can ask you now,
because I don't want to ruin your life,
I pray it's not to late by then,
I hope your not to independent for me by that point,
If you say yes I would be able to breath,
and if you say no,
I'm not sure I can.

Your gentle touch,
when you kiss me after an Icy drink,
and tongue round my ears,
when you hug me without holding back,
and snuggle up with me in front of the TV,
when you run your hands through my hair,
and you caress my skin,
leaving me intoxicated as you constrict my body.

The delightful sound,
of your lips parting,
and your soothing whisper in my ear,
the swell of your groans,
and your exited pant,
or your cute squeak,
when you stroke my flesh,
and our soaked chests stick together.

My dazzled sight,
when you gaze into me,
or give me that irrisistable hot look,
your flowing bronze chocolate hair,
the perkiness of your smooth curves,
the face structure of a goddess,
and the most welcoming pure skin,
I won't forget those colourful eyes.

That tempting smell,
of your natural scent,
when you wake up in the morning,
and your perfumes and products,
or your warm home,
and fresh washing powder,
when I bury my nose deep into you,
and soak up the essence of you.

And the rich taste,
of your delicate lips,
and your soft cheeks,
your agile tongue,
or your running sweat,
when I lap up your *******,
or you loosen round my face,
and I suckle as you gush.

I hate it when you go away,
brings ****** darkness to my days,
what you get up to is a ****** haze,
and it make my anxious hard race.
   It's that idea of you comin back all wrong,
sad, shagged, corrupted and ugly or crippled like a ****.
sharing life with you makes me less jealous strong.
   Don't like it when you're drunk especially when you're not with me,
I care for your health,
your not the ****** same and I get so worried,
and I think manipualtive ***** will get you into stuff,
and robb you of your secrets that are close to me,
I won't mention any cuntie names.
   I can only hope you don't do something unattractive,
you know my normal bits,
they make me feel physically sick,
because to put it bluntly,
putting up with this ****,
makes me feel like I can't ******* live!

Like a fresh plank,
you varnish with coat after coat,
but what you should note,
no matter how many coats,
the knots just won't..

Disappear,
they will just hide and ***** deep,
then later on when the wood is old,
the worms crawl out form the depths,
and rott your world cold...

And muddled,
you long for the Ivy's cuddle,
to keep you up right,
despite is constant side affects,
you need varnish coated with a shovel!

They all ask,
why so protective?
why so boring?
why can't you accept?
the inevitability of spoil!

My unarguable answer is this,
If ever in your naive life,
you love someone as much as I do,
then you will fight like hell,
to stop they're corruption.

Old like a pensioner,
I'm reminded,
every waking hour,
of how I'm being left behind.

I'm sat there,
staring into space,
waiting for the world to change,
and love to accelerate leaving me stuck.

Stuck in the past,
where people are how they are,
where they haven't changed into freaks,
intent on destroying what makes them beautiful.

They are just fresh and pure,
and wise enough,
enough to not take risks,
risks that aren't worth taking.

But SNAP,
an adrenaline rush,
back to reality,
what has happened?

They bitterly remind me,
that I'm to ill to be in control,
they have planned to move on,
without a second thought.

I am sat there,
a hopeless mess,
while they leave to get a job,
proving there ability in independents and change.

It doesn't take a genius,
to realise I'm ill,
the anxiety of loss and change,
leaves me edgy and so low.

I'm dying,
I hope someone,
can **** my troubles,
before they **** me.

Forgive me,
for I may sin,
perhaps for your benefit,
for there benefit,
for my love's sake,
but what I believe in,
no longer matters,
If I am taken by the dark,
to aid you and the rest,
then so be it,
spare me,
from the jaws of hell,
Amen!