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my skin glows when i'm in your presence. my smile grows genuinely. and it can't stop. your eyes evoke the caramel in nature and your flesh the same, they're both silken and melt my heart that pumps hastily but so effortlessly when my name moves past your rosy plump lips. air lodges in my throat when i hear your winsome chuckle. you unconsciously withdraw the breath in my lungs with grace. your hands can reach for my psyche if you wanted to. and i would happily rest mine folded behind my back. my soul rises with fire when you call me baby. i feel heavy with all the warmth in my belly. but you don't mean it. you even told me you don't mean it, yet i convinced myself that every word you spoke was soft, gentle, raw. you only see me as royalty when you're intoxicated, the words coming lazily out of your mouth are the drugs' feelings for me. you simply have none. you don't deserve to have me as your girl, but i deserve to have you as my guy. romance isn't in my dictionary. only lust. but that's because that's what i was taught. everyone before you was my teacher, the back of my mind warned me what i was getting into, despite the small bit of aspiration whispering to me that you may be different. you may be someone whose soul rises with fire like mine. it's never that case. if we aren't being lustful, i mistake it as a sign of your heart giving out. my love is not what you and the other boys search for. relationships became a month long play date. i'm not allowed to confess about the misery eating savages that live in the depths of my head because then you'll leave me before they take ahold of the short ecstasy you give me. then it's back to mistaking their control for comfort and seeing you as the true savage. i can't kiss you because you'll unintentionally only show affection to the sadness on my lips rather than the true salt and sugar. my heart is heavy with affection, weighed down to my stomach. my skin is shaking, crawling and aching for a caress from your fingertips, but you would rather see my bare body than my naked mind. i have sentimental people on my list, but i grew something with you that i cannot get myself to pick out of the dirt ground, why do i continue to water a dead flower? i fell into the void that is your soul knowing damn well i would be tripped out by another someone, but the craving i had for exploring you went to my arms as they opened for intimacy and shook so vividly that more than your eyes could sense that i was weakening with your lack of lovely words that used to roll off of your tongue after we kissed. i broke my own heart loving you. the only thing that is considered larger than a dream is to share an Eros love with another. to have the stereotypical romance that allows your pores to breathe on their own and your heartbeat to quicken and to settle. but it is instead played as a sport i never was professionally trained for. it's a conquest. something that is controlled by the dominance of the other for it to not become equal share. the force it creates only allows one full heart for one and no soul for the other. they're the ghost or they're the angel. but angels were ghosts before they gained their wings and you are the angel who came down from above and ripped my heart out of my chest in my content sleep. the only problem is that you didn't know you lived there and you broke yourself, too.
