I pulled myself apart to reach
the level I thought I had to be
to give you the love I thought you deserved,
to find the love I’d desperately
wanted to achieve.
unstick yourself from me –
that guilt is crisp on our bloody lips,
I trace your outline with my burnt fingertips.
my touch is a flood
and the love I want
is a trivial fantasy.
it’s not really bated breath and
windswept dreams;
it’s late night hate sweats and
anger stitched with lust
that bursts at the seams.
still I bow at your feet,
still you I serve –
there’s a special valve
in my heart, reserved

just for you.

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