i wish to remove this piece of clothing and show off my skin
unblemished yet scarred i lay in my bed wanting to commit sin
the temptation to **** my morals off and become an ******* is so strong
that i wish to be bad and feel good when i do something wrong
i am tired of being this version of myself- weak, virtuous, wise, vulnerable
that in my years of living fairy tales i am making ******' folks and fables
guys out there have never really looked at me
in me they find nothing good enough to see
a grandma wrapped in loose clothes and a tight bun
is so **** dull to touch or have a substantial amout of fun
i have a gift of pushing people away and putting them off
always ******' smiling or crying in corners, i am a laughing stock
i can be the hottest and sexiest woman in my head
but in reality i am ******' lame to my bones, that said-
i can neither become a nerd properly nor live recklessly,
this is chaining my soul to a place i don't belong, honestly
at this point i don't even know what do i need
stuffing my face with bulshit, these pretty little lies do i feed
the road i take takes me to places i don't fit in
and this happens because i ain't comfortable in my own skin
all these years, i wonder where has my confidence been
longing for someone to match my wavelength, my flames' twin
i have wasted my breaths on things that don't matter
in the silence of my suffering i have become immune to chatter
so speak i out about my problem and affairs
thinking that they who listen honestly do care
maybe they do and maybe they don't give two *****
about me aiming for stars or my self-esteem taking hits
why can't i be a private person and stay shut?
to live, why do i need the pain of a bleeding cut
why am i not normal but being normal is not what i want
this confusion, dichotomy and paradox is what haunts
*"to be or not to be"...................................
or be blind and pretend to nerve see

dreaming of a future i still sleep in the past
no thoughts of the present shall ever last
because in my masochism all i deeply crave
is to build my house on a ******' grave
i miss who i was and yet don't want to be her
why isn't life ever clear but a burdening blur
everything i believed in no longer exists
changes too bold, is what life insists
but i ain't ready to move forward yet
or am i? but still do i fearfully fret
how did i talk to strangers for hours?
listening to their tales of scars and stars
i am back to that time when pressed i
hearts on people's stories for no reason why
but don't know if i want to be that person again
desperate for affection and easy prey to pain
i have a beautiful human around me
who sees me and still loves me infinitely
yet i feel this way and it is beyond my comprehension
-what is future if not the past's present extension?

stood i in a corner away from you
trying to keep my distant view
of the finest specimen had i ever seen
never in such proximity had i been
for you were my nemesis, sworn in blood
yet the very sight of you turned me into a dud
because my brain cells shortcircuited
making me look at you on their own accord
and every moment our eyes connected, i regretted
because that made you someone i allured
so with every contact between our eyes
filled i myself with even more despise
because your mere presence derailed me
pushed me off my balanced sadly
and all that was left of silly me
was a puddle of shame and lost integrity
i didn't know that a simple stare would be enough
to put these inappropriate images of us
in the head that once plotted your demise
how did i get here, is a ******' surprise
so should i let this attraction make me do stuff
that'd be irreversible and testing my luck that's tough
maybe ******* you out of my system will let me be
my old self that hated you on the highest degree
or control these impulses and more
since with time, i will go back to before
why suddenly it's my wild blood pumping vigorously
begging to be tamed by your touch oh not so gently?

when i imagined experienced guys
it always meant in the physical way
sharing body was ohkay, i don't know why
but emotional connection, i can't say
i could take it if he'd put the same hands, the same lips
on someone else's neck, chest, legs and hips
but looking at her how he looks at me
isn't something i imagined freely
he has loved, kissed, made love, hooked up
in the choices for relationship goals, he ticks all of the above
he's even gotten his heart broken and cried for another girl
lost his temper and tons of abuses has he hurled
he's gone through everything that i'm feeling for the first time
so yes, i am the immature one taking responsibility for this crime
i wish he could be a little more possessive
say stuff sober and be more expressive
but that would be greedy of me, right?
for these trivial matters i shouldn't pick up fights
yet feel i lonely on days like today when
nothing really big did happen
he's a great boyfriend, just very real and not rare
but that doesn't give me a reason to not care
for everything he does for me and more
i should be grateful for all this from the core
and to be honest, i am because i am a problem child
chaotic and messy, too stubborn and willfully wild
he tames my urges and makes me see sense
with him i wish to attain perfection without pretense
but at the end of the day when i lie down on my bed
this calmness travelling through my head
wonder i will this be enough? his sanity to my madness
he's safe, selectively thrilling but doesn't make my blood pump in wilderness

oh dear heart, your nerves did he hit
with those abs on display, did it feign a fit?
for my braincells couldn't stop me
from looking at this gorgeous-gorgeous being
with hair that curl in my hands
and eyes that travel upto foreign lands,
for when you look at me
i turn a little breathy,
you **** all the sense right out my body
doing this to girls, isn't this your hobby?
i have heard stories of your sexcapades
a "God" in bed, you think you're an ace of spades
so even if i desire you, your hands, your lips, your tongue
in your ocean of wilderness, i shall never plunge
because i ain't like one of your ****** or groupies
i have a ****** backbone, which i know, that you fancy
so i won't be another notch up your bedpost,
another one of your score that you'd like to boast
i am more, i am better and shall never fall for a bad boy
i have too much life to ever become your ******* toy,
but i can't help this stupid beating *****
that makes me think of you quite often
of all the things that i shouldn't do
-it's your name in CAPS, it's always you
for i have had one taste
even though it was chaste,
and now?
i can't stop myself from calling you tonight
because you're a piece of cake and i'd like a bite