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Wants for Needs

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Never quite love, not even close to it.
Built up on a pedestal by people
Like me: enters my soul without a fit.
The only drug for a heart so feeble.

Lust—my being—a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Make the notes of my heart seem so fickle.
The skull in the mirror screams self-loathing—
Donning dark robes and waving a sickle.

Desire is honest when I cover
My eyes. Curtains for hands, hiding the truth.
Behind the door—loneliness: my lover—
Pries from my fingers the white warmth of youth.

Answer me now,deep chasm of desire:
Why is this all that fuels my endless fire?




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InspirationalBeauty_ said...
today at 6:57 pm:
I thought that was beautiful.
 
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