dampened bed sheets,
nerve endings ablaze,
shaking from the inside out.
ravaging,
youre rugged,
ruthless and raw;
across pale silk skin,
lovers claw.
teary eyes and sultry pouts,
the **** wet dreams are all about.
i may be little, but im ready
to love you hard
and feel you heavy.

the veins in your arms like
road maps to your heart,
i trace them with my eyes
from afar.
youve got an aura that people write songs about,
the way you shine and
the way i fade and fizzle out.
im the last thing youd remember
but youre the last thing id forget,
the way your eyes wander
and mine are dead-set.

tongue dancing, your eyes roll back
as blood poppies bloom on pale skin.
your sins, sweet and warm,
depraved, delectable, diluted, and
dissolving
we pull the life out of each other
and we revel in the taste.

memories of you, of us
dance behind my broken face,
a cracked smile and swollen eyes
characterized by long and late and lonely nights.
youre making new memories now
with her, my antithesis,
the girl who sets you ablaze
and ashes her cigarettes on your bedroom floor.
you have her to keep you warm at night,
i sleep with my bedroom window open
and make myself sicker and sicker just to feel something
and i write until the friction of pen on paper is enough
to warm the tips of my fingers.

you told me it was nothing,
now youre sleeping in her bed.
you said i was the only one
now i dont exist in your head.
shes the best youve ever had
i was a warm, convenient place.
i poured all i had into you
and she quickly took my place.

where do you go
from the lowest of lows
when the heaviest of weights
blocks your only escape?

your glasses slip down
the bridge of your nose
and your slender hands
turn pale around the steering wheel.
i wonder what you do
when you are alone,
what you think about as you
drive aimlessly
through the city and
through my mind.
i wonder if your presence here
was premeditated or
a happy accident
like those days when you
drive wherever feels right.
i want to know how similar
the contents of you are
to myself, and
i want to know the processes
and the dreams
and the fears
behind those frames,
behind those eyes
that you hide.
to you, im cool
but to me you are
a mystery;
you are pandoras box
and im the willing fool
whose curiosity got the best of them.