i close my eyes & feel you're skin
you smell like you'll leave soon,
they always do.
I trace my fingertips over your closed eyes,
do you really see me?
My fingers travel to your lips..
oh, those lips speak my favorite voice, you say the sweetest lies.
while I desperately kiss the part of you that hurts me the most,
I wrap both hands around your neck, I feel a fucking fury inside of me arise.
I see anger, and she makes me stop and see that if i can forgive you for stopping heart, you can forgive me if I make sure you stop breathing?
To voice of reason, and it goes by "Naive", yeah, it coaxed me into throwning out any negative thought, and again, im starving for you, let me taste you while your blood is still hot.
Fuck, I can't get my hands on it..
I'll rummage through the rest of your parts, my body is dying without it..
I've tried every single, possible angle.
I've broken my back.
My hands find your stomach..
Aren't you satisfied.. what is it that I lack?
My hands find, on your body, the limb that you favor, and maybe with it I can use it as a way for me to reach inside of you and finally find what is rightfully mine...
But like clockwork, we're out of time...
You only taste me in small doses,
so I stay famished and thin, every second, my mouth waters only for you...
I'm just an acquired taste, you only crave me if it's convenient for you.
Does that make me a treat?
Does it make me a guilty pleasure?
It makes me fucking dumb.