Dawning Creations

I want your hands to trace my sides,
kiss my neck and leave bits of you behind.
I want to know what it feels like
bittersweet lust taking over a petulant flame.

My body and mind quaking,
shaking over and under you.
But it’s not real.
It’s a part of a competition,
a game, right?
This is us, right?

I can’t shake this hunger,
every meal can’t satisfy me,
every look just isn’t enough,
every sigh,
every space I devour your shape,
following you, finding you as my eyes search for you at every end in the sidewalk.

I called and called
but you couldn’t answer me.
Some things aren’t supposed to be.
Can others see what I can’t see
or what I see that isn’t there?
Are you just an extension of me?

I still write and write pieces
about you and me,
praying you’ll see and respond.

I’m sick, is that to blame?
Are you real or just an imaginary game?
I can’t determine your ends to means
or my own, too.

I can’t shake this hunger, growing as I know you more and more and you make me afraid.
You could destroy with the press of a button.
You could destroy me if you pull away.

Will this ever end,
this ball of confusion
that’s taking over me?
Do I love you
or is this just a deluded delusion?