Today I wanted to feel
my lungs burn
and turn to ashes.
Is it too much to ask
to **** myself?
Slowly, always
so
very
slowly.
Maybe, I know
exactly what I'm asking
for.

Is it so awful
to want to feel my eyes
sting?
The sour smell invigorating
my mind.
I wanted to inhale,
exhale.
Fly, drift,
and float safely on a cloud.
I guess I'd have to come down
to Earth
eventually.

Then I wanted your hands
grazing my shaking thighs.
Quiet kisses on my droopy lids
as you say "You're beautiful,
sweetheart."
We could spend an afternoon
falling on top of each other
and getting tangled up
in a mix of lust.
Then I'll trip and fall,
waking up in
this sick reality.