You're a liar and a whore

and it makes me want you just a little bit more

Evil Urges

I wish you would have traced the mosquito bites
with something other than scratches
I'm a wet spot on a sheet that stacks itself
onto you and makes you sweat
kick me off, it's so easy in the summer to do
I got flat back drunk just for you
so I'd be able to really touch you
but instead it was all something else,
as usual it is always something else
than what we made all of efforts to construct.
I sit in a similar corner watching
everyone else slow down, myself
reeling under the air vent
with nothing besides my blood pulsing too fast
in morse code reminding me that
I'll always be a liar, and my love is nasty and
for something that is shutting me down carelessly.
And I let it, I do it.
Just because nobody here knows
doesn't mean it's not the same.
Just because I lie about it
doesn't mean it's not still the truth.
I can't wait until the day when somebody says
oh god, look at what your love is doing to you.
and then wipe my mouth
with the back of their hand, slow oh for fucks sake
for once it will just be slow,
and then they will stand up
and leave me alone.