eleven ten

idealization

you're still my Majesty, my Idol. whenever i look (and believe me, i can barely stop) you draw me in like a moth to light, dear god i'm near death. they said the devil was beautiful, but then they've seen him before. as have i, though ashamed i should not ever wish to let that glorious face out of my head! i am no longer an addict to substance and i have not been since i took that piece of you, distorted myself to be who you wanted. in vain, however, though you left me anyway. "is that all i'm for?" i wonder, then suddenly you return! i feel my heart brighten like the fire of a million suns has been lit once more. but again, you vanish. those suns die faster than myself as i decay. rotting from the inside, over years i have bled within. there is no stopping the destruction. the rubble may salvaged once, perhaps twice, but in all it will never stay. at the end of the day, i die. sleep is no longer present. most nights i cannot even close my eyes, for when i do, i see you. nothing but you. you and i, sometimes, against God's will (against mine, too, i want to believe, but i always lie, i could never tell you no). perhaps i should put the red letter upon my chest now, God knows i won't stop once i taste you. when i finally have you where i want you, need you, pray you to be.