You’re still stuck in my head,
and my god,
I’m getting bored with
the fact that my mind has become a
slave to the
“thought” of us.
of me. and. you.
like you were the only river connected to the sea
and I, just could not get enough of your scent.
how you touched me like I was
the last soft thing in the world,
and you couldn’t just wait to indulge in my soul.
and I can’t get over
how your mouth feels on mine.
I gave myself, so openly,
so freely, raw
like I didn’t previously build up every wall possible
a lock without a key
like I didn’t want to taste any other man,
except the king that I was supposed to love.
and you brought those walls down.
there is no other one that can open me up
like you.
I can’t get rid of you
the trees
the stars
the sun
they all whisper your name.
and early in the morning,
when not even the birds are awake,
it makes me sick.
you, you make me sick.
I just can’t fathom that you
might not want me
like I want you.
and I secretly hope that I could get drunk off of your scent,
and you can get high off of my love,
and we can balance out our lows,
sort out all of the puzzle pieces
we thought would break us.
stumbling over each other’s feet.
you’ll fall back into my gaze,
the one that won’t even last five seconds
now.
and you come as quickly as I cry,
and you go,
as easily as
you make me cum.
and fuck, I mean I crave you in me
even when you act like you don’t
need
me,
like you didn’t fall in love with me too.
you’re like a bad spell, a good spell,
and you can’t tell how I feel,
(cause lets be real, I don’t know how I feel)
and you took out a piece of me,
the same way one took the forbidden apple
off of the tree.
you left me bare
and I can’t find anyone
who mentally intoxicates me like you do, taking my existence.
my breath comes so easily
with you.
and I am tired of writing
poem
after poem about you,
and having dream after dream
about you
about someone making you their home,
like MY heart doesn’t still sit so deep within you,
waiting on your front porch
for a cool breeze that may never come.
and I’ve waited and I’ve waited, and I’ve waited
I cannot take, how the love of my life
how I might not be the love of his.
you were so delectable
and we were so beautiful.
and I can’t figure out how to keep my heart from hurting,
while I wait for the moon to show.
and my god,
I’m getting bored with
the fact that my mind has become a
slave to the
“thought” of us.
of me. and. you.
like you were the only river connected to the sea
and I, just could not get enough of your scent.
how you touched me like I was
the last soft thing in the world,
and you couldn’t just wait to indulge in my soul.
and I can’t get over
how your mouth feels on mine.
I gave myself, so openly,
so freely, raw
like I didn’t previously build up every wall possible
a lock without a key
like I didn’t want to taste any other man,
except the king that I was supposed to love.
and you brought those walls down.
there is no other one that can open me up
like you.
I can’t get rid of you
the trees
the stars
the sun
they all whisper your name.
and early in the morning,
when not even the birds are awake,
it makes me sick.
you, you make me sick.
I just can’t fathom that you
might not want me
like I want you.
and I secretly hope that I could get drunk off of your scent,
and you can get high off of my love,
and we can balance out our lows,
sort out all of the puzzle pieces
we thought would break us.
stumbling over each other’s feet.
you’ll fall back into my gaze,
the one that won’t even last five seconds
now.
and you come as quickly as I cry,
and you go,
as easily as
you make me cum.
and fuck, I mean I crave you in me
even when you act like you don’t
need
me,
like you didn’t fall in love with me too.
you’re like a bad spell, a good spell,
and you can’t tell how I feel,
(cause lets be real, I don’t know how I feel)
and you took out a piece of me,
the same way one took the forbidden apple
off of the tree.
you left me bare
and I can’t find anyone
who mentally intoxicates me like you do, taking my existence.
my breath comes so easily
with you.
and I am tired of writing
poem
after poem about you,
and having dream after dream
about you
about someone making you their home,
like MY heart doesn’t still sit so deep within you,
waiting on your front porch
for a cool breeze that may never come.
and I’ve waited and I’ve waited, and I’ve waited
I cannot take, how the love of my life
how I might not be the love of his.
you were so delectable
and we were so beautiful.
and I can’t figure out how to keep my heart from hurting,
while I wait for the moon to show.
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