crave

show me a way to say this without coming out the fool and i will show you the bullshit in all of that. there is no way. there is the now and the leeches that exist in me aching to pull out all i can from you. if love is unselfish i've never had it. but i'd rip apart anyone who had damaged you if asked. i'd unravel my veins and fashion you a rope to swing on or a hammock to lay on when you get off from those long work days, just to make you comfortable for any moment. i would do that, so it counts for something doesn't it? it should. i recall some paranormal program where a girl flails about possessed and think there is more than that to fear baby. you really have no clue. sitting shotgun in a car with eye contact that lasts too long, asking what a million times. what is that i cannot tell you. i chew gashes inside my cheek and drink the blood of my tongue to not say what i want to scream into your mouth. lust shouldn't be the sin it is. there's worse than that which makes me choke on the taste in the back of my throat though i haven't been eating. it's the taste of a lack of something. nourishment is found in the outline of your body. i am starving.