in lust and lies

Touch me like you want me
like your hand between my legs
equals love
because I'm tired of being lonely
with only the air to hold

I'm not fuckable
in the sense of beauty
my body soft and scarred
from the days
I thought the bones of dying angels
was something worth aspiring to

(Not that I'm an angel worth
the warmth of your hands
or the scratch of your nails
down my jagged history skin)

So fuck me like you love me
like I'm worth holding onto
like my bipolar mood swings
don't make you want
to break the mirror of my face

I don't love myself enough
to love you better than this
disharmony is the best I can hope for
when the demons scream
and demand the threads of my sanity
be detonated like a road side bomb
without a victim to smash against the wall
in passion and hate and desperate compromise
for something more than white bedsheets
and broken wine glasses

Fuck me like the dawn will never come
like we can suspend reality
with your fingers bringing me to ecstasy
in ocean-like tides that will never end

© Indie Adams 2015