I am a drowning man, in a pool of bodies that most men would go to another dimension for.

I am in a sea complaining about thirst while men live in deserts.

I been atop of mountains of pleasures.
Valleys of thighs and handfuls of sensations.

My mouth is full and I’ll still claim to be starving.

I’m an ungrateful little boy with an empty bowl of ice cream after devouring it.

Im a black hole ******* in a galaxy of time and space and my eagerness is a rampage.

I’m one privileged **** away from pornographic Mount Rushmore and I’ll ask for a bigger head on film.

So what is my problem?

My problem is all I ever wanted was to be wanted.

All I ever needed was to be one persons desire.

One finger to touch me and kiss my innards.
Spit into my face real companionship.


Somebody to hold it all against me with the cheapest pick up line. I love you.

I ****** my way to the top of my problems.

And I cannot unfuck myself out of the past but I can prevail in her presence and forgive myself a little each day she wakes up next to me.

I am so lucky to have her.

I must learn to hate myself less than how much she loves me.

That’s my problem.

I’m complete but I still feel completely guilty.