Jealous hands.

I watch behind you
in the crowd,
as she reaches over,
to so gently scratch your back,
and sooth you as you lean there,
forward in your chair.

My emptiness is apparent.
And I am jealous of her hands,
and wish that I could feel those things.  
I wish my words were fire,
and my aching heart,
exchanged for brilliant wings,
jealous hands, jealous face-
feathers and sinew,
jealous things-
so I could leave this place.

(c) Dm 2015

i don't get attached
i don't cry over boys
i don't take them serious
i treat them like toys

i like to be liked
but not to be needed
want you to want me
or my ego will be deflated

what a spoiled brat
probably just messed up
i don't care about things
my feelings are corrupt

i want to feel something special
with someone brand new
but i don't know if it's possible
maybe it could be you

I don't need a doctor's medicine
all I need is **** and wine
I pray for heaven to let us in
I pray to an unnatural mind

I don't need the tools of society
all I need need is the test of alone
I'm not worried about my impropriety
when we die, we are only bone

I don't need a god to worship
worship means to have faith in unseen
I live life in more and more ****
I live *****, but I'll die clean