you wrap me like a condom
on a...
(no, scratch that / wrong analogy)
you wrap me like a leftover
sandwich saved for tomorrow,
was I not enough for you
was your hunger not satisfied
stare into the sun, burn those
vulgar eyes, strain to see me
bodies drained, the flesh is gray
smells stick to the walls, cremation
(back to the condom, still in its
wrapper, all dreams and potential
no, scratch that / our lust is limp)
I’m not coming back this time
but
we’ve both heard that one
before
(Image from mirrorsinner.tumblr.com)
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