Mistaken Situation

Sleep finds me, puts thoughts of you in 

my head, makes it impossible to sleep

with these feelings pulsing

inside my veins, fueling

every instinct known to you and I.

 

These memories remind me of how it felt

to breathe you in, to be glued to your skin.

You explored - maybe a little too much -

the texture and depth of an unfinished 

canvas painting. I gave you the brush

and a wish you fulfilled. My heart jumped

up and down in pain with deep passion.

 

The world around us didn't matter.

We were united as one, a tangled 

mess of wild emotions.

Belly button to hip, and back again. 

Wet kisses were trailed on my skin.

Love poured from your hands;

flowers of appreciation bloomed wherever they wandered.

 

Too little.                               Not enough.

 

Too much.                             Not enough.

Too far? Unbearably possible.

 

Sadness, rage, humiliation poured into the palm of my hand.

Your visage fell. The tough guy was gone, and my baby,

returned to me. If love was spelled with too many letters,

it would have been your mistake. So eager to please, to be pleased.

Time meant so little to you. My undying love slipped from my lips,

my soul died a bit, and

my canvas painting? Violated.

My mind was lost in a sea of emotions. So many questions, not enough answers.

 

love.         Betrayal.

Sorrow.    Revenge.

Apologies.  Attempts.

Lies.         Truths.

 

I want you still. There’s an emptiness in my chest.

Fill it with your hands one last time. rub my heart.

Kill my innocence. Pull on my dreams.

Get inside my head. I dare you to.