(no subject)
do you remember the days i spent waiting for you?
those countless hours laying in my room,
never knowing if any of this
could ever be real
the dew of May, the coming rain
the touch of sin that graced coarse skin
what felt so real
it all drove me insane
the climb of breathes
your heaving chest
as we locked our wrist, entangled mess
our hearts flared and burned our flesh
our tongues could not confess
what we had longed for, with all our intentions
was for an meaning to all of our obsessions,
to seek an answer to this ancient question:
"why must we feel alive?"
those countless hours laying in my room,
never knowing if any of this
could ever be real
the dew of May, the coming rain
the touch of sin that graced coarse skin
what felt so real
it all drove me insane
the climb of breathes
your heaving chest
as we locked our wrist, entangled mess
our hearts flared and burned our flesh
our tongues could not confess
what we had longed for, with all our intentions
was for an meaning to all of our obsessions,
to seek an answer to this ancient question:
"why must we feel alive?"