You have instilled in me a deep desire to never be anyone's baby.

You didn't pull the trigger,
but you gave me the gun and spring loaded my fingers.
You taste of fine bourbon and
talk with an electricity that makes everyone crave your attention.
I want it so badly that I do not care who you touch,
as long as i am your favorite.

That is a good dream, we both know I will never be your favorite.

I am aware that no one will ever possess you.
You are a wild horse,
you trample over lives and people
like flowers and
you never relent.

You cut me just to **** the blood out of my skin,
you cut me just to see if i would flinch.
I didn't, and I haven't seen you since.
I secretly hope they scar,
so i can prove to myself that you were once there and
this is not just a nightmare that keeps clawing its way back.

I was once one of the empty beings that you touched.

I remember the night i woke up on your floor,
in front of the toilet with my underwear pulled around my knees
and my skirt up around my hips like a schoolgirl gone rogue.

I never asked why,
I was afraid to know the answer.

You always did like to **** me the most
when I was too intoxicated to remember it.

You are something that haunts me,
someone I cannot wake up from.