Lust and Pretty Places

There's no more

pretty places for me to rest my head.

How can I keep going on

when I'd rather be dead?

I'd rather be in your arms

a prettier place than this.

I'd rather be with you

falling asleep in your kiss.

There's no more pretty kisses

It's all just my lust.

Screaming, alone, silent.

Desiring to be shut up.

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Benjamin Bloomstine's picture

I know this is true. I love you and I wish I could be with you