Greed

Anticipation,

my patience grows thin.

And it’s different this time,

a slow-churned blend of truth and lies,

The hunger, a fire,

a flame that won’t subside.

I am giving more and more of myself

I am testing limits I didn’t dare ponder before

I am tasting the honeyed dew of mutiny,

I am reveling in the forbidden nature of my own pleasure.

And I live in the shadows lately,

where hedonism thrives

I am pompous and arrogant,

I look Satan in the eyes.

And he guides me accordingly,

down the path of the unwise,

where I’m ushered into a madness,

a slippery slope, a slimy ride.

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False Casanova

Backpedal,

For a moment, I forgot who I am

I forgot what I am worth

I forgot that I can stand

That I can run, that I bleed

That you are nothing to me

That I gave you an inch, and you took miles from me

 

And my heart is no plaything,

With which you can continue to toy

And you think you’re so slick in this game,

you think you’re so coy

 

But I am the Queen Bitch

I will forget you, quick fix

Like sand, you will dissolve

And I won’t even blink

 

Oh, you think I need you?

Think I can’t make it by?

Think I need you to hold me?

Wipe my tears, tell me lies?

 

Well fuck you and your delusions,

I will prosper on this throne

my body doesn’t mind the cold,

my tears dry on their own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tremor

Hand tremor,

I shake.

You did this,

how dare you bend what you knew would break?

Haunt me,

and I simply cannot rest anymore.

Broken,

this can’t be what minds are made for;

to scream and wonder and yell and knock,

to pinch and prod and snicker and rot.

And although I know

that sentience is a pendulum

that rocks and sways,

it seems there is a constant,

one thing that doesn’t go away.

For though my mind

will refuse to dwell,

will repress any memory (lest it begin to swell),

there is a constant,

a pesky remain,

it is my hand

— which continues to shake.

 

 

Weakness

Put my finger in the mouth of flames

Further in, so I can feel the heat 

Her tongue tastes of ambrosia

I can feel the warmth inside her,

She is tender and pure

And I want more

She burns me as she draws me closer, and this fever is the best kind

For she is woven of flames and desire,

Of seduction and fire,

And I know I shouldn’t, my whole body ablaze

But she’s too close to deny, and her eyes are a maze

So I guide her through my pleasure,

through my pleasure and my pain

All the while reminding her of the peril in this game

And now I lie satisfied, a pile of ash

For though water is my sustenance,

Fire is my weakness.

 

 

 

 

Heart Based Plot Twist 

Powdered intricacy, you feel so smooth

Gentle, and you knew I needed you

Felt it, I felt it through and through

Breathing, an effortless, transparent hue 

Scrunching, you’re soft and nice and rough,

I feel your soul — silky, jagged to the touch

Find myself in amber eyes, I see so much

And I do like you, not a lot, but just enough.

Strange, I feel it growing, my affinity for you

(And if I can tell you anything about the prettiest boy,

It is that he tasted of velvet candy and truth.)

Transition//

Marlboro reds and spearmint,

some sort of cologne?

Had his arm around me,

why’d I feel so alone?

I think it’s you, I’m thinking about you

And you are the context,

the fabric of all that I do,

of what I think,

of who I am,

the very core of me.

And I keep breaking the rules,

over and over,

in the absence of you,

for you,

you.

And do you want me now?

You seem to want me now.

Now that I’m close enough,

to touch

Will you touch me now?

want to touch me now?

but I don’t know if I’m the same,

I think I’m quite different now.

I don’t recall,

where and why I began.

And now that you’re finally ready,

I don’t know if I am.

 

 

Attempted Emulation 

I recognized bits of your soul on him 
He wore it like an opulent varnish

Of course, in some ways he exceeded you
You, with your silent beauty, in just the right amount

You, with the way you filled me up with curiosity,

With no intention to satiate it 
He was similar, I knew that as soon as I saw him

He was like you, so much like you 

He was quiet, he was brilliant, he observed

He was calm, he was patient, he was reserved 

He was beautiful 
I think he was smarter

I think he saw more broadly 

I think he was less concerned with quantities and more with quality 

But he valued experience and trial just as you did 

He searched for new energy and old patterns in the same way 

He looked for humor in the complexity, harnessed it and kept moving 
You were humbler than he was, less aware of your magnificence

Of course, I wonder now whether this dichotomy of humility and pride is as significant as we once thought it might be

For why is it a crime, for one to believe he is glorious, if he truly is?
He was more aware of his brilliance, yes

Whereas you remain oblivious still 

He molded cognizance of himself 

Into a life filled with color and experience,

Which you stumble upon through pure coincidence and the kindness of strangers (or friends, I suppose)
I wonder what it means

That, in all of his greatness,

He is not what I crave 

That, to me, all of his charm lies in his similarity to you

That I still prefer you

That I always will, 

Only you.