Blood, hearts, and mud mired mythology
all fail to describe that desire for pale skin and lust's fire.


But I still can't see past the crush,
mind blanks and stomach stabbed by nausea shanks
what the ****.


I feel half my age and not in the good way often espoused by the saged
But in the small way that makes you remember how powerless you were.
How powerless you are.


When the fever breaks you're not getting better.
When the sickness passes you're not getting better.
Scars mar hope's north star.
Until you can't find your way forward.
Until just going anywhere gets you more and more lost.