We are a Mess

 

We are two messed up people 

With blood and fluids 

Active with crazy romance 

Doing each other no good.

But it has a name 

The things that we do.

Friends with benefit 

Or whatever it is titled 

We are present everywhere

Except in other’s hearts

The bed, the couch, even the lamp stand

But the gods forbid we kiss with all our heart. 

What we do is the craziest type of thing

Where our words and moans align

But our paths are off side

I mean, I like your flips and I like how my legs are raised. 

But honestly, we can’t run my race. 

I would never understand, but I get it.

The requirement for this thing that we share is to be blind, to quench desires 

of meaningful emotions. 

My fluids are okay with you

My breasts tingles at your touch

But when I look at you, 

My lips is all that unites us.

There would never be an explanation 

for why we cannot be more. 

Perhaps, I don’t speak your love language 

Or I only fit your bed frame. 

But time and time again

I would never be able to explain

Why of everything I could be 

I chose to be your bedmate.