No, no more.
I tell myself as my hand
goes for more.
Stop, stop it now.
I try, not it's not working.
You're going to regret this!
I tell myself to stop,
but I can't do it.
I take it.
It's so good.
My stomach grumbles.
And there's the regret.
Too much ice cream.

Tempting... certainly tempting to attempt an impulsed
Ease of pain. to drift off the earth and re-appear
Somewhat myself physically. it's tempting. but if I
Tilt my morals and background, what will I have?
Others may stick to the past and I can barely
Stomach the thought. I'm barely surviving
The present, presenting as a character without
End to preserve lack of sleep and well-being. I can't
Rip apart my body and start anew,
Observing the world as myself. I cannot be myself.
Never in my life did I think id feel this way,
Envying what I'll never have but ****, it's tempting...

I love your eyes and the eyebrows,
And I love your nose & the lips.

I love your smile and the laughter,
And I love your grimace & the tears.

I love your happiness and the anger,
And I love your innocence & the glamour.

I love your appearance in my dreams,
And I love the lap dance you perform.

I love your sketch in all of my memories,
And I love those curves tempting to sculpt.

I love your memories with all my heart,
And I refuse to give up all hope even if you get married to someone else.