Songs of Milan

My Body Is NOT Your Bed 🗣

   you like the shape of me.. your eyes fall in lust with its ability to move freely.. your thoughts spit out images convincing my shape to open up for you with hopes to penetrate the master..
   you tell me that i'm your escape.. your relaxation.. your safety.. you kiss me like you want to be loved
   no matter how long i lie awake and battle with my thoughts and rhythms i cannot explain why i am still here..
   you turned me into a secret to mesmerize alone to justify this feeling you've placed inside of me.. what day was it ? what was it about her?.. what sent you crawling out of her with what you couldn't find in me..
   you split my soul open and forced me to write again as i heard "no" pounding her fist on the roof of my mouth
   i'd like to think that you can feel through each conversation how our souls became familiar with each other, though not physically, i'm meeting you with every word..
   you looked past my words and tore down my shield as you reached inside my distraught mind where you stitched as many pieces together as you could.. you shared with me the only parts of you she's never laid her eyes, nor hands upon.. together we are "normal"
   this bond compliments my resistance to leave.. i feel like unwanted stones tied to your feet at times as though you're forced to stick around to spare my heart one last time.. i can barely fathom the idea of watching you walk away from me and into the arms of your dismembering lover..
   as wrong as it is i beg my skin to do tricks like forget about the barking dog that holds your heart.. and how good it feels to lose control all from the burning house of your hands that caused me to forget how to breathe and give in every last inch of me to my hearts vulnerability
   each time i think i have escaped.. here i am again serving the same temporary satisfaction to ease the venom you hold
   you give away what i crave to possess.. you claim to have no escape.. but there are no chains around your feet.. you love her
   to you.. i am as deep as you can touch and only useful in the moments of temporary escape
   i was taught that my tongue and inner thighs were the only form of language of love you would accept or understand.. my body is not your bed ..