in the dark shade
where we laid
you were crimson
from my worried words
and still
I relapsed and sat
there “comfortably”
don’t kid myself
I can’t anymore
I couldn’t refuse your voice
and now stuck
I cringe at the thought
of committing this crime
you have a way
lunatic, of hurting subtly
me, on a limb
where I shouldn’t travel
but do, for you
and now, I’m sick
you’re weak
not even a week
and you can’t keep yourself off me
