Finite Progress

I am powerless over him.
His flawed perfection
Will never be mine.
No matter how much
I want to crawl inside of him
And make him want me
The way that I want him…

It’s redundant.


For everything I want.

For everything I will never have.
For everything,
between light and dark.

Somewhere between

serial killer enthusiast
and children’s book author.

Where could this possibly go?

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