And all of its afflictions?
Tasted like warheads when I was low on everything sweet.
Lust is like,
The sweet apple pie I’m dying to dig in to,
Even though there’s a note saying that it’s not for me.
It’s why I rather love!
And bask in it while wrapped in the only set of arms I wish were around me while underneath my bedsheets.
So unfortunate how we both went sour with how spoiled I became.
Dependant on Her love!
Worn out by a fresh coat of anger worn on my ripped up sleeves…