Sweet, Sweet Nothing

Please,

Before another word

Crosses your sweet, perfect lips

Take your foot from my neck

And allow me one last breath–

To defend, define, dismantle myself

As you seem low on ammunition

And after all, I live to serve

Where I started

Another wrong turn

Vicious circle

Sickness of familiarity

Back to where I started.

A conversation, guarded

Words balanced on the edge

Trigger happy

Love…sick

Lovesick.

Regretted exchange

Body Heated

Back to where I started.

Don’t worry my little star

It’s of my own doing

I may be lost

But I’ve been here before.