Done And Dusted

His touch burns my skin,
His kisses scar my body,
And yet he leaves me craving for more.

I want to explode into this great nothingness that consumes me.

He enters as gently as he retreats.

The traits of a coward, no more.

But tomorrow will be a different day.
He will be nameless, faceless.
Not worthy of even a memory.

Former Lover

Social media is the devil.

I see a picture of you, you look the same even after all this time.

Your wrists, your fingers, your hands.

Your neck, your chin, your lips.

Your stubble, your ears, your everything. 

That same smirk on your face. 

So familiar.
Like the smell of rain, but only a distant memory and nothing more.

Your touch would drive me insane. Your kisses felt comforting. But I'd be lying if I said I've found no one like you.
I have.
Many, too many.
They're all just the same.
Generic men in their 30s.
All the same.
Always, all the same.

Everything is a loop.
I've given up control.
After all this time, I've resigned myself to my fate.