eighty five

my body is his weakness
but his eyes are mine.
why is he such a downfall for me?

remember how i'm not just for dessert?!
i wish he would make up his mind.
i say that it doesn't matter,
but if he truly didn't matter
i wouldn't still be
thinking.about.him

i wish i could just chill,
so i play it cool even though
in my head i'm going crazy.
i used to think the only time i could breathe
was when i was with him,
but really i just can't find the words to say-
that when i'm in his arms i can't breathe at all.

it feels so fake sometimes,
like part of a dream,
simultaneously loving the moment
but screaming to wake up.
a jolt, that rush, playing with fire.
maybe regardless of him i just
live for the thrill.

i hate the vulnerability of the whole game
i'm not willing to let him in,
so why go through the motions?
i don't want to play anymore,
i'm too tangled in all the rules.

in too deep, i'm addicted.
it's funny how i seem in a constant
battle to trade one for the other,
and yet i say i don't want one at all.

maybe i'm the one that needs to make up my mind,
his input would absolutely tip the scales.

maybe if i could find my voice-
maybe if i could mean what i say-
maybe if i could take that risk-
maybe if i could catch my breath...

isn't this how its all supposed to go down??