You.
It's always going to just be... you.
All over the walls of my heart, painting with your words, diminishing all of my thoughts, causing havoc out of love, it's you.
The way you laugh, the way you walk, talk, eat, breathe.
It's a commotion, lingering with the taste of your body, numbness on my fingers after I've traced and retraced every inch of you.
You hold within you the power to destroy me at your will, to knock me down until I'm unable to resurface, drowning in the presence of a beauty that could dismember all that surrounds me.
When you undress, when you tease, you've become the dancer that dwindles around the devil.
The way you curve, moaning as you arch, pulling and dragging at my skin, you've got me, love.
You've got me.
You always fucking will.
You're my fix.
YOU ARE READING
Roses In The Sun
PoetryA book dedicated to the thoughts that lie beneath the surface of all that I am, all that I will be, and all that I hope to become. A book dedicated to the outcasts, to those who've felt invisible, to those who want to read and fall in love with the...
