So you’ve down graded me to (love) friendship plus a bit?
I’m wondering how the fuck that fits.
For I get it we are a must,
but darling you’ve forgot my lust.
In my veins burns heaven and hell,
I’m not made for a life where passion don’t dwell.
Stagnant waters sour my brain
life without desire drives me fucking insane!
(weren’t we synced? or was that just a line?)
I’m repeating history,
It’s a fucking mystery.
Please stop picking at petals they’re dropping to the floor,
push me in this corner my soul will take no more.
Love me as you did or love me not all,
I have plenty of friends to show up at the ball.
You said that I was life yet you yearn for something else,
pain they say is poetry by those who’ve only felt.
And I wonder if you even know what it is to love,
for it seems to me to be that one will never be enough.
I’ve walked that path myself,
self inflicted pain upon my health.
The constant search,
the grueling lurch,
the measly offers to our internal church
and we dress it darling, by declaring we were born to flirt.