you’re the streetsign at the corner of intrigue and desire,
right next to melancholy hill,
perimetered in barbed wire.
you’re the bloom breaking through the chainlinked fence
crossing the border,
finally tired of the intense.
you’re the solar light when the
sun don’t shine,
the lie in our eyes when we
say we’re fine
you blur the lines between should and want.
a privilege for me, for others you daunt.
so fruitful now
but then, so gaunt.
but enter here, your debutante.
i wrote this on ******* one night in like ten minutes. this **** just came to me like it never has before. i wrote it about the boy im seeing. and a side of him that ive only seen come out for me.
