Gatsby, Gatsby, oh you protagonist young man;
To work for a millionaire and be a soldier.
To do criminal activity just for a single girl
Who once did love you but never will again.
With all your fabulous wealth and fame;
In that mansion you live in filled with Goth
Having lavishing parties on late Saturday nights;
Not to mingle but to look, to look for her.
Living in the West Egg with a distant view
Of a lake in front to separate you and your love.
Only a light of green to comfort your loneliness;
With a friend as your only connection to them.
You are the mysterious type of man that you are.
A person whom no one knows where he is from,
What he does in life or how he makes his fortune.
But in reality you are from a farm in North Dakota.
You are also a flawed, dishonest, and ****** man;
Lie about your past and the name that people know.
Left your farm life at age 17 to change who you were;
Forgot your name as Jimmy Gatz to become Jay Gatsby.
Jay Gatsby, Jimmy Gatz, you did this for your love;
For the love you had for Miss Daisy Buchanan, for her.
As a man, you were known to be extraordinary optimism;
For you were determine to take your dream and make it a reality.
The dream that you had of only you and her.
A dream that was too far from reality;
So far that it blinded you from true reality.
This dream is what brought death upon  you.
For Jay Gatsby and Jimmy Gatz are one and the same.
Both blinded by love for Miss Daisy Buchanan.
Both determine to change their social status
Both dreamt a dream that would not come true.
But yet both denied the truth of themselves.
For this brought the death and the heartache
Of a father who knew so little of his only son.
For a friend who truly knew nothing of him at all.

No matter how much you come to mind, you are not mine
and when I leave the feeling of muscle memory coats me in your toxins, your sweet toxins, an odor I'm already fond of
coaxed I am by you, for you and no matter how much I want or crave to be even near you and have you around, to laugh and cry with

you won't be there

Here we go again and I will not give into my own dreams and wishes, we were so close today, I felt your breath from a mile away and your lips on mine for that brief second before your head peered away and looked towards a sea of distraction

Who can touch me tonight and make my skin feel bare?
I feel the hands of the sun roaming my skin as my lower back is held in a warming embrace, but I will not loose my mind as my breathing and heart beats.

A sorry letter is what I meet when I return home and I view the handwriting, recognizing it's yours a little clarification point you recite to me every now and then, I've got it mate.

People have plans and I wanna help others, as they try an encourage me to get through, oh if only they truly knew, I still smell you you're here, Ha!
Honestly I'm not gonna leave you behind, no matter what heat you might have had for me, you think you're better on your own, caress my thighs and grip my *** like it's completely fine, it doesn't mean anything to me.

Maybe I should leave, and react the normal way, but I can't because I just don't care, this is a Daisy Buchanan and Jay Gatsby thing? Minus the money and on off love.
No this is a different version, filled with lust and lack of concern, it's like you have no emotions that reside in you, only hands and a **** that control you

others might say I should escape and hate you, cause I'll be better on my own without the venom of someone who's not even there.
You're not a Tom Buchanan, but you're certainly a Jay Gatsby my lord

Why should I escape though, I'm okay, I'm not dead and I haven't been stripped of everything even if I know not where his hands have been, its just an illusion
Not Real At All