Aching

wishing

regretting you
and your perfect equations
your golden proportions

and i feel no emotion, maybe a little remorse
when i think back on your smooth skin
your hip bones grating against me

we stumbled into some pitch-black back bedroom
you charming man you
tell your best friend, so he’ll call me a slut (again)
maybe this was all just for revenge
i told myself it was just for your beautiful face
it would all just be for the thrill of the chase
if i told myself i wouldn’t care
then why do i feel so hollow, so bare?

aching, my pounding head and sore bones
aching, my throat and my stomach burning with nausea
aching, my heart flooding with some viscous liquid

wishing, sin didn’t come so easily to me
wishing, i didn’t have a weakness for beautiful boys
with the worst kind of personalities
what manners, what class!
a gentleman in the streets…
i hate that i love feeling your body heat