Under the flicker of fading lights at night,
I search for proof in your sighs,
in every moan taking flight.
If I can pull you close,
make your world spin in my sway,
maybe then you’ll really see me
and decide to stay.
It’s not just want that brings me to your door after dark,
it’s the need to feel real,
to land somewhere and leave a mark.
Each gasp you let go is proof I exist,
a living thread,
tangled in these sheets
with reasons not to leave unsaid.
If I make you come,
I’m not just a name you’ll forget.
Every sound you spill
puts out another cigarette.
I’m bound to the moment you whisper that I’m yours,
in the aftershock between us,
I find my shores.
I drift through a life where feelings shift like tides,
without your skin on mine,
everything inside me hides.
But in your heat, pressed against each heartbeat,
I find a trace of something close to quiet
in the wreckage of this place.
Don’t let me drift away,
keep me locked in your hold.
Is it love or desperation?
The lines dissolve in the dark,
but every time you touch me,
you leave a permanent mark.
If making you feel good is what keeps me whole,
I’ll wear that purpose like a second skin.
Among the broken and the desperate,
in your want I find my role,
in the act of giving pleasure,
I anchor what I stole.