I can see myself, sitting on the edge of an uncomfortable bed,
In an unknown, alien room,
Watering.

Flooding, out of control.

I can see
Catastrophe.

I can see
What could be.

I'm not sure I can stop it.
I'm not sure I have the self control.
Baby,
I have wrung every last drop of will power
From the sponge of me
For you,
I am not sure
I have anything left.

Even now,
After a month without,
You are pulling at me.
The word 'inevitable'
Sits on the centre of the bottom of my lip
Waiting to leap into your mouth
And caress your tongue
With long, slow strokes.

Oh, I
Am undone
And aware
Fully aware
I cannot bear
This potential betrayal
Which will ever haunt me, a possibility...

A wish,

A longing
I can never assuage.

A restless wanting
I can never appease.