every girl just looks so **** good
I try not to be a lion on the prowl
bite my lips & take the drag of a cigarette
I need to help restrain myself, to
breath in the fresh air and constrain
myself; don't pounce girl, you've got this.
but he's still the name I call to while dreaming
the hands I want on me
the lips I need to be kissed by
& the air I dare to breathe.
He is the man who moves me
try to understand, he's the magic man
shifts me inside in ways
no wife I covet can.
He's the one I'm nervous to lie with
scared I'll lose myself in the thought of him
that's all it is, really: the illusion,
the daydreams of a girl who lives
more in her head than in the world
distant sometimes hazy others
& totally unreachable occasionally.
I wish I could have him
under my skin
but I'm not ready
to deal with the consequences
of being his girl.
I'd love to
live beside his shadow
the relief that washes over me
when he says my name
erodes the disorder
lifts my eyes from my feet
makes my heart
swell & body melt.
it's the kind of contentment
that I know will destroy me
in the withdrawl.
it's the kind of baby young love
that encapsulates the happy victims
imprisons you in the sugar & honeycomb sweet wonderland
that turns sour when you relax in the beauty
& forget that lambs
are often lions, too.