5:30 rambling

And that's where it's come down to, me needing to lose myself,
as he claims he is lost and I'm giving advice on the greatness of being found (because it's true, I know- because I desire the same),
I equally understand parts and pieces of him that he doesn't understand yet.
I love him more than he knows, and I'm alright with that.
I'm alright with being the hand that comforts him when he needs,
but what he isn't realizing; with warmth comes a mania in me, an insatiable thirst.
I invited him in and he hasn't quite ever witnessed Me in full effect yet,
I remained relatively mellow and level headed.
Until now.

I do best in chaos.
Lead me into fire to watch me rise from it, drag me into oceans to watch me pull a Houdini.
I grew up in a slightly different time than you.
Aggression and angst were nodded at,
now all these kids are in pastels and floral prints and all I can think of lately is taking a can of gasoline to your cascading curtains,
pulling your hand up my skirt and tearing you piece by piece as I writhe in everything you can never fucking have or be.

I miss girlfriends,
With their pretty hair and gleaming eyes, their soft skin and the way they like to be cradled after,
their lit up faces when they don't expect to shake that way.
You can't do what I can do.
But I could teach you.
You're in for a hell of a ride.

I am running through blooming forests, ones I asked his name for a year ago.
Where I sought myself, where I sought a love that I knew I'd fight til the death for.
In a dream you were brought to me in ideas and I was coaxed forward.
My fingertips softly running upward, caressing the moss, warm and gentle.
Laying me down on the roots of hundred year old tress.
You ripped the lace as you came inside.
Full eye contact.
The match is lit, kid.
Watch it burn.

S.M.