Thinking about your lips, your touch and that intense semi masculine scent tugging away off of your skin and intruding its way into my lungs turned me on in ways where flying chains and red lace could never express into words.
Your glare at my body certified you were bad for me from the very start..yet I liked it.
every single little slip up I make that potentially ruins me is always in the fault of some silly girl like you- trying to wrap me around your finger like a band, and every single time It works in perfect harmony.
Why do i always give in to the same mistakes?
Maybe its because of the thrill of the jump before the crash, it would make sense at least. But at the same time I feel that gap in my soul whenever I speak to you. Somethings missing, and I know it. I know you’ll never be enough. That’s why after the crash I get up and leap so blindly for the next fall. Knowing non of you will ever be enough.
Then what is it?
What could possibly be the very thing to fill the consistent gaping hole in my existence and craves to be filled, because it certainly isn’t you. It’s only ever temporary.
As you stare at my exposed meaningless corpse and groan I ponder at the ceiling in hope for some rationality to my situation.
Hmm what if?
What if the very thing i’m missing is…
A warm heart.