And in the daylight hours
When distraction and apathy
Keep idle hands busy
It's easy to forget
To set aside the cavern
In my chest
I try to fill with fantasy and lust
But it never compares
And it's never enough
There's nothing that fits
The way I wish, your lips
Would sip on mine
Like wine
Well, it's grand design
And yet I pine
Because this fantasy
Is all falsity
Just a figment of my mind
YOU ARE READING
trigger points.
PoetryA collection of my original poetry/prose from 2006 onwards. Warnings: these poems deal with mental illness, including mentions of self harm, suicide, emotional anguish and abuse. Please do not read if you might be triggered by such content.
