it's always the same thing every night
we meet.
we embrace.
our lips touch.
our tongues play.
until night is upon us
and we go our separate ways.

my body longs for more.
my lips call out yours
until my mind does its wonders
and makes doubt enter my core.

and the anxiety flows
from my trembling heart
thru every single artery, vein, and nerve
that makes my eyes water;
my back tense;
my body shiver;
and my mind lose sense.

it closes in on my arms
and slowly creeps its way
to yesterday's cuts on my wrists
and reaches its way to my fingers.
then forces itself to rhyme
on a crimson-splattered piece of paper.

on and on, I will continue to write
until I hear your most beautiful good night.
even if I feel I'm not your only one
the illusion kicks back in. a poem is done.