He finally got inside of me.
I became necrotic.
Is that what you call erotic?
Haven’t heard from him since..
Is how I’m feeling neurotic?
Decaying my mind and clinging to lies
But the problem was never me,
It was the lack of depth you had inside
I miss you
And the phantoms of the kisses you’ve left on my lips.
And the shadow of all the hand prints
Left from on my body from your grip.
With your lustful touch,
And your gentle fuck,
The ways you made my body swoon;
Ecstatic rifts that filled the room,
floating from the twin sized matress on your floor.
Out through the cracks of the bedroom door.
But before I allowed myself to adore,
As you slept,
I got dressed,
And out I’d sneak once more.
People youve loved
Can become the easiest to hate;
Grazing along the dim line of the
violitile emotions between love and disgrace.
my soul burns at the mere mention of your name
Increasing passion, the growing rage I feel to extinguish your flame
But it’s almost the same
As the intensity of our rose-colored days
The thought of the likeness drives me insane.
Oh i long for the day when I can ignore your existence.
There is no better relief than indifference
Hands as soft as the fragility of your ego
You compensate by making every woman whom you encounter feel disposable.
God forbid you actually show yourself
What makes you whole
Or what would feel that hole inside of you
That you desprately try to fill
with women and substances that make you ill.