Times I've craved for this moment,
Till I'm all broken,
Apart from my body who's spoken,
I want this enjoyment.

So stay tonight just to restore,
Towards the door,
Upon this you can explore,
Ending up with more.

Your hands are in my hair,
And it's so unfair,
I watch you as your eyes stare,
And lust is in the air.

Now we're doing it all again,
This time with chains,
We could go straight to fast lane,
So this can maintain.

Your bare skin under mine,
As the clock ticks nine,
We could go one more time,
This is too divine.

I'd rather not hear my own talk of hallowness
echo back at, around, and inside me,
but worse is to witness it hurting you -
'It'? Not the talk, but the topic.
And 'worse'?
This dejection can strip my self-worth
- but I'm used to the lack of attention.

So yes, when my mind feels ejected from my body,
when I need to sleep or hide some other way
from what's inside me,
I vacate myself in ways that may desert you
for a while.

I'll just ask that you be patient.
I'm sorry and I'm not;
you deserve a whole,
and I've got to
not be a hole

BUT BABY,

I'M AFRAID TO TELL YOU WHAT'S IN

THE BAGS UNDER MY EYES.

AND YOU SO CURIOUS.

YOU SO CURIOUS BECAUSE YOU CAN

SEE THE HEAVINESS.