A desire that heats and burns
with every thought of
our perfect dimensions and symmetries
Our passion is so pure and raw
So stark, we are left in breathless awe
We want happiness
We dream of white picket fences
The nuclear marriage with two little munchkins
I want that
Yes, I want that from you.
We feed our Torments with reguile
We flirt, the game, with beguile
We die a little more each time we embrace
Making things harder and harder to accept and face
It's not meant to happen
..this love of ours, raw with passion
For I'm just your current release
And you're just my current muse
We continue to abuse and use
In all senses
I admit I am a casualty of 'War'
Destitute and needing more.
We live in the present
The future we ignore
The silence is deafening
As we wait for the other
B O M B
One will say:
"I don't want this anymore. I'm leaving you"
While the other will say:
"What is there to leave? We were never an item,
there was no 'We' ".