I wish you could see yourself
In my eyes.*

Although there's no reflection,
I admire the complexion.
My eyes sting raw with the pain of perfection.

Your pulchritude blinds like the morning rays
Shaking me from slumber and demanding I raise,
I dismiss my obsession as if it's a phase.

Little do I know, it will last for days:
The obsession of the pleasure you do on my gaze.

Maybe seconds, maybe forever;
From that face, my eyes can't sever.

I'm lost in your pores, I'm lost in your mouth.
I've lost my mind as my eyes wander south.

Over your throat, and grazing your chest.
I promise it's not lust;  I only want to test.

What is beneath you? Your zephyrean coat.
What words do you hold inside of your throat?

I'd peel you open, just to see what's inside.
Trust I won't dig, *please don't hide.

I've never seen such a handsome shell, but I crave its meat; only time will tell.

I'll let you in, if you let me peek.
Let your walls leak.
No hide and seek.

I cherish your voice
Like the last drop of coffee
On a restless morning.

I wish it was us raining
Falling and melting together
As the sky's tears do.

I long to be the song
Circling tiredly through your head
When you lay down at night to sleep.

I'd give up three meals
If every time I ate
I dined on the warmth of your lips.

I wish to be steaming water
Rolling over your skin
Making you sigh with satisfaction.

I want to be the towel
That kills the cold air
Right when you leave the shower.

We will be the clock
That ticks to forever
For time is no challenging measure.

A way to **** your soul?
Allow it to believe it is half of a whole.
Souls don't always belong to another;
not a father, a mother, a friend or a brother.

Some belong to silence.
Some belong to alliance.
Some **** greedily from the breast of violence.
Souls like money, souls like trades.
Souls like sunny, souls like rain.

Souls pull on everything that may heal you,
All while pushing away everything that may.
They keep your wants and needs away,
All while keeping your fears at bay.

Souls like ***, no matter the meaning;
Contiguity feeds the soul that is leaning.
Leaning into a vacuous space;
Pursuing nothing in an infinite chase.

No one is there, not a soul.
Nothing is there to fill the hole.
Dig and dig as deep as you crave;
But there was never a soul to save.

The loneliness gets to me every once and a while. I actually do fine without anyone, but of course taking the time to think about it changes everything, scrolling through my dash on Tumblr, or just feeling the floating aura that radiates off of someone who’s in love…makes you feel the empty pit right below your sternum. And you wonder what it’s like to feel butterflies there…true butterflies. For me, they’d be pterodactyls; I don’t know what it’s like to truly feel for someone on that level and for the feeling to be returned in the same magnitude. This makes me wonder how people rush things. A touch should be cherished, and one should pull every bit of tingle from it that they can before he/she takes her hands away. I long for that, but I've done a fantastic job at convincing myself that I don’t. I can’t see myself being loved that way, so much that he would slow down, be serene and stoic with me, share all his thoughts and vibrations, and not be a total **** that falls into the stereotype of an attractive guy who can’t keep up a conversation. I feel no attachments to the people I've dated. None. Their faces and voices do not phase me like I once pretended they did. I’m drawn in by their ability to intrigue me and stimulate my mind, and then they stop doing it because they don’t understand how it satisfies me.