Bad things

I want to do the wrong thing, in oh so many different ways.
I want to be so God damned bad... Lead you utterly and completely astray.
I can't help but touch myself when I think of you.
I can't help but taste my fingers, wishing you could taste me too.

This throbbing in my body is pounding through my brain.
The fact that I can't touch you, drives me fucking maddeningly insane.
My eyes might see, my ears might hear, but my senses are halved, unwhole.
I'll only be complete, I know, when touch and taste also fill my soul.

The voodoo you have got me under has me mesmerized and caught.
How you managed to spellbind a witch, is something I know fucking naught.
Sin so simple, unbridled, honest, and sincere...
Dark desires whispering... I'd show you if you were here.

Distance does no justice nor does it slate the burning desires, clearly felt.
On my knees I'll recognize the sensations, once in front of you I've knelt.
Skin to skin, the barest touch, will make me marvelously undone.
Taste to taste, tongue on tongue, merged at the core when we are one.

Wicked are these images that claw and scratch at wanton eyes.
Sensational and tantalizing dreams of us, no remorse, no unkind or veiled lies.
No gods present themselves in this ritual we have evoked into existence.
My demons sneer and purr and growl with harsh anticipation and insistence.

I do not wish to take what does not belong freely to only me and I.
But my demons know I want to, anything else would be a bold-faced sneaky lie.

"Hush my darlings, patience we will practice. He will be here soon" placating them to rest.
For I know in the darkness your personal demons are putting you through the same relentless test.
They writhe and howl, beg and moan to set these urges free.
They are, in fact pushing you closer and deeper into me.

So here I wait in the darkest corners of my soul, cleansing all the rooms,
making ready for when you can explore these hallowed tombs.
I feel the steady dripping down my inner walls and wish you'd come and flood my inner halls.