you sit triumphant on the throne
red velvet, up there, on concrete stairs
i am a piece of glass to you
see through, ready to crack
to break, grovel at your knees
do anything that you please
and you see it.
i feel like a spy. everything is shrouded in secrecy now.
everyone says hi to me but you
you give me a glance telling me
"you will need to do more to earn my time"
i give you high 5's
your hand is bigger than mine
the prints studding my back are purple night skies.
you see right through it.
you know i would jump over hot coals to get a day with you.
**** a day with you.
if that were a drug i'd be a ******
the idea of you, seeping into my veins
giving me a high.
withdrawal from you has become my pain.
i try to find you.
the you that came with me on the bridges of brighton,
the you that bellowed the lyrics of fuzzy 9:40 pm songs
sung an octave lower.
but you see that i'm searching
so you hide the key.
on top of your red velvet throne
you autocratic beauty.
i wonder if you know what you are doing to me
bug under your thumb, i squirm and you laugh.
give me my high, my ruler, my lover, my queen.
don't worry about the withdrawal my muse.
compared to your shots through my glass,
a little fire would be welcome.
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 12:54 AM UTC
you sit triumphant on the throne
red velvet, up there, on concrete stairs
i am a piece of glass to you
see through, ready to crack
to break, grovel at your knees
do anything that you please
and you see it.
i feel like a spy. everything is shrouded in secrecy now.
everyone says hi to me but you
you give me a glance telling me
"you will need to do more to earn my time"
i give you high 5's
your hand is bigger than mine
the prints studding my back are purple night skies.
you see right through it.
you know i would jump over hot coals to get a day with you.
**** a day with you.
if that were a drug i'd be a ******
the idea of you, seeping into my veins
giving me a high.
withdrawal from you has become my pain.
i try to find you.
the you that came with me on the bridges of brighton,
the you that bellowed the lyrics of fuzzy 9:40 pm songs
sung an octave lower.
but you see that i'm searching
so you hide the key.
on top of your red velvet throne
you autocratic beauty.
i wonder if you know what you are doing to me
bug under your thumb, i squirm and you laugh.
give me my high, my ruler, my lover, my queen.
don't worry about the withdrawal my muse.
compared to your shots through my glass,
a little fire would be welcome.