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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