When 4 am is too early to go to bed

I don’t know if I can lust after you any more and that feeling is so strange.  The urge is there but the push to do it has faded.  You’re like a flower picked from the garden and wilting under the sun.  It used to be something quite pretty but now the petals are showing their weakness.  How much longer can you last?

This is tired, this whimpering lust.  The forced need to suck the blood from your lips after biting my way in.  Eye to eye so I can watch you flinch when the skin breaks.  I want it but only because of muscle memory.
We’re like a long drive in the middle of the night.  I need your voice to keep my eyes open and my mind sharp.  You’ve been asleep in the passenger seat and my eyelids are getting heavy.  Wake the fuck up, I need you.

So will you be gone eventually?  Just like the girl with the killer smirk and the devil woman?  Karen with the fluffy bra and the one with the legs and the smirk?  The misleading girl who injected so much into me?  Will you survive or will you be a memory of something I want to bring back but can’t seem to find?

Maybe not.  Perhaps it’s just a hot day and a little bit of cool air will bring back your color.  The pink and purple in your eyes.  The lift in your limbs.  You’re the one who survived the longest and if anyone has a second chance it’s going to be you.

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