on the count of three.

your fingers, warm on my skin,
your lips cooling my neck.
legs entagled, your heart being fast
and i'm counting the
cracks in the ceiling.

one.
two.
three.
maybe if i moan
it'll be over faster.

your chest and arms
and the paleness,
i'd rather be held by a ghost
and i'm looking for ways
to get out of it.

one.
two.
three.
ah, hell, i forgot to
pick up sugar at the grocery.

your hungry eyes and the sounds
you make with your mouth.
honey, you've got to know
it's bad when i can't even
fake it for your pleasure.

one.
two.
three.
come on, get off
of me i just want to sleep.

i have a headache
i have to be up early
i broke my fucking toe
and i'd rather sleep alone
sorry to have to break it to you, babe
you don't make me cum.

rub one out
in your own bed.
i can do this
without you.

and still you call my name

sometimes you make me lose my words,
tounge silent as falling snow.
and sometimes you show me exactly
what it feels like to rage and burn.
and still you call my name.

your voice in the dark
and your hair on my skin
and sleep is always sweetest
when it's next to you.

but you change like the
dawn to the day to
the pitch black night.
you never know when
you've gone too far.
and still your call my name.

i can smell you on
the softest breeze
and feel you in the
cool river over my toes.

so i beg you to treat me better
and i beg you to say goodbye
but you know too well
the heart of me to keep me
and still you call my name.

these chains that i'm in,
set me free, set me free
or cool my
scarred wrists
with your teeth.