Something like a sonnet

It is not desire…nor is it longing,

Rather, I have a craving…

I crave your injustice, the wrongness of us

I crave the wholeness of the void you’d fill

I crave what everyone has – but with a twist,

Because who would I be, if not different?

No, I need something much more forbidden,

I am lured by temptation, and evil is my northern star.

My hands, they shake and my nervous breath

Is the vibrato in your ear, on your neck

Smoke rings are my halo, and pride my horns,

And my claws will rake stories on your back.

I want to be bad. I want to make you cry.

I will leave you wanting more, like nicotine on your breath,

I remind you of our soon-to-be and imminent death.


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