The world is a spotlight for his blooming lotus,
You can’t focus.
It’s like he has you in a rendition of hocus pocus.
Filled with adoration to the tip-top of your cerebellum,
“Please love me the way I love you,” you tell him.
“I’ll love you my dear,” he recites.
He is a ball of sparkling lights,
Illuminating the darkness of your night.
You ignore the feeling in your gut,
You close those windows,
You latch them shut.
No one can mess this up.
His touch feels like heroine,
If you even knew what that felt like,
But you know nothing else can be this addicting.
Every moment with him is a moment gained,
He is the drizzle to your hurricane.
You thought you were fucked,
But this one is better.
He can make you feel as dirty as the scarlet letter.
His kiss stings like a bittersweet tinge.
He bites your lip hard just before he breaks skin.
Is this what it feels like to sin?
If so, you never want to be holy.
This boy alone sets your soul on fire.
With him, you never grow tired.
And each time the feeling that something wasn’t right crept in,
You shoved it back into the house he made for you.
The comfortable home with rose garden bushes,
Every thorn sharp and serrated,
Just one look and you were a goner.
But you did not see those thorns,
For they were covered in his flowers,
And he made sure to distract you with overwhelming power.
“Why won’t you come visit the family?” your mother asks,
and what do you say?
“My lover wanted to go the bay,” and each excuse piles with his name,
What is yours anymore without his?
It loses its meaning.
He knows this too, which is why he keeps pushing,
Deeper into your heart you let him dive,
Until he hits the very core,
The fleeting pore.
He owns you now,
There’s no turning back.
You give your all,
And when he begins to slack,
it feels like you’re drowning,
You let his kiss bring you to the surface.
But each time doesn’t help you swim better,
And every second in his home keeps your lungs sweltering.
Gasping for breath,
But his hands the only saving.
Where are all your friends?
Where did they go?
You have no one but him,
Yes, that’s what he did,
He ripped out your core,
And he will leave your sore,
Without a single look back.
The feeling returns one last time,
And you slam that damn door,
So hard the hinges blow off,
The windows break,
The floor shakes.
His house comes crumbling down,
You see the thorns now,
You see a field of your life before him erupt in an orange haze,
Because he let his own cigarette catch flame.
You realize it caught fire long before you noticed,
And maybe the gleam from his eyes was not love churning,
But instead the reflection of your own self burning.
