Are so slowly caressing.
Perplexed about everything,
That my mind is processing.
Those feelings of mine,
Are scratching like thorns.
The breath of denial,
With an odd, familiar warmth.
Experiences are tempting,
Burning like fire.
Only awaiting my nerves,
To outgrow an old desire.
Disillusioned and blind,
I walk through
the night.
Knowing to well it’s time,
To unleash the wild beast inside.
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