you wandered inside my mind
and got lost. you asked me
why do you write? because
i feel the words the way
you feel the sunshine on
your skin. because i want
to tear apart the demons.
because the words i hide
are the ones that come back
like a magician’s tricks.
because i told you, i have
no fucking choice. he woke me
up at midnight with violent
blue eyes and soft gently hands
only to thunder my soul with want.
i don’t want to read your poems.
i love everything about you and nothing
to do with what you write.
you know half of me.
you know all of me.
you know you can’t escape
yourself, baby.
he makes me crazy
with wanting and i tell him
everything. truth serum is
my vodka at scarlet
restaurants with
mobsters ordering
salmon tartare as if
they know everything about
fine…
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georgeforfun 