Grey

The stillness of 9pm… it could have been a Monday In my fairytale town.

A Dorian grey sky and my daddy issues shadowing me home.

(It was only meant to last a song).

Your silver looks are turning whiter.

Intricate lust.

Poignant is the idea that we’ll sit through countless dinners where you tell me your desires.

And I tell you mine.

A distraction so perfect that almost similes love.

Familiar blood that runs through my nails when I bite through.

I bite and I think of you.

But only feathery is the touch…I dare…I dare to feel.