Now I'm just sitting here
drinking red wine
and contemplating.
The promiscuity of death,
the fluttering desire when
new hands
drag trails across your
skin.
The sacred thought that you
cannot be wounded if
you aren't eating.
The need to grasp his body again;
to see that smirk.
I hate bad news.
I hate that when it rains
it pours.
I'm scared that this is the time
that you entered my life.
I won't be able to take any pain,
any disappointment.
I'm cracking.
Maybe I'm dying.
Death is far too simple though
isn't it?
Nothing is ever simple.
I kissed him,
I kissed him.
It was everything.
No comments:
Post a Comment