My soul cries want
just whispered to you.
I observe them while writhing
in a corner like a junkie in search of a
dose.
In the shadows, crouched
the drum
barefoot on the floor, hiding the tears
between his legs.
Ready to raise the face
soon receive your attention.
Ready to thrill you and rubbing
like cats prey
to purr.
Forgive heart
not know the words to
express the
My Love.
From my hand, not
think there is anything I can from afar
think to forgive you.
I think it's late,
and I just want to suppress
those souls in torment that fill my mind as
a guest uncomfortable,
forced to leave.
I desire to be loved, for the flower that are imperfect.
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