i always thought i had it all figured out
and there wasn't anything to think about
all i wanted was my skin to be branded
and liked it a little rough-handed
but craved the aftercare
where
you'd caress the marks that you painted,
my pale pure skin with your tongue you tainted,
and then you'd hold me in your arms
help my heart beat calm
so that i could sleep in silence
with my mind at peace
keeping away all the ugly violence
so our bliss-bubble won't be breached
yet today i have learnt that i can't have both
if you'll be tender you won't be able to control
this wild blood that makes me do stuff
that is even more harmful than "poison puff"

either you will be sweet and sound
or you'll be an anti-hero with hounds
either your love will make me feel blessed
or with me you'll be obstinately obsessed
either you will want to be gentle with me
or you would help me see
that i am not sick for harbouring these desires
even though burnt, it's ohkay to long for fire

and this is what i don't get
because if i let
you in with no out
all i will do is panic
making our budding romance tragic
because i am a living breathing paradox
built of a spectacular range of blocks
wanting to be tamed
yet afraid
if i set this passion free
i will drown in lustful seas
but if i chain it in
i will be faking
so what should i do i don't know
be like water that goes with the flow
or be the storm i was born to be
scarring yet surreal in all its serenity?