Your eyes tell of an insatiable hunger
for me,
my person, my body, my heart.
You will devour me,
If only in your dreams.
Dreams, nightmares, fantasies.
Your imagination takes off with my memory,
My scent, my smooth skin, my ragged breath...
The way our bodies fit together
just right.
Right, I was never right.
I was never the girl in the white dress.
I was never your angel.
But.you.had.me.tamed.
I was wild and free, and undeniably yours.
Your broken princess, your awesome disaster.
And in your arms I was beautiful.
And in mine,
You were free,
Calm, safe, whole, home.
Home was something we didn't recognize
anymore.
And I had a reputation that was never wholesome enough
To stand in front of a priest, or your mother.
But you still wanted me.
Me, who loved you every moment
With my sin stained hands and my broken halo
And my singed wings.
I never claimed to be perfect,
But I loved you perfectly.
Perfectly and ravenously,
We hunger for each other still.
So once the world has made you hideous
You'll come back to me.
And understand that
perfect love makes you whole.
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 12:56 AM UTC
Your eyes tell of an insatiable hunger
for me,
my person, my body, my heart.
You will devour me,
If only in your dreams.
Dreams, nightmares, fantasies.
Your imagination takes off with my memory,
My scent, my smooth skin, my ragged breath...
The way our bodies fit together
just right.
Right, I was never right.
I was never the girl in the white dress.
I was never your angel.
But.you.had.me.tamed.
I was wild and free, and undeniably yours.
Your broken princess, your awesome disaster.
And in your arms I was beautiful.
And in mine,
You were free,
Calm, safe, whole, home.
Home was something we didn't recognize
anymore.
And I had a reputation that was never wholesome enough
To stand in front of a priest, or your mother.
But you still wanted me.
Me, who loved you every moment
With my sin stained hands and my broken halo
And my singed wings.
I never claimed to be perfect,
But I loved you perfectly.
Perfectly and ravenously,
We hunger for each other still.
So once the world has made you hideous
You'll come back to me.
And understand that
perfect love makes you whole.
© January 18th, 2011 Moriah Jean
For my muse, again, actually.
He used to tell me we were black and white.
And now, he tells me he misses me.
ha.