my possessions

my eyes glaze
and on
to your 
frosty shoulder.
your razor nails
rip through me
like a
blackened angel.

i long to
feel the solace
of your blanketing fever.
but every time i try,
i just burn my lonely hands.

i want you
to wrap your arms
all around me,
and pretend
that i meant something
to you last night.

i wish
you would just close
your fucking eyes
for a moment,
and listen to the rhythm
of my wavering soul.

'cause you try to tell me
that this
is what we've
both always wanted,
and i sit there stupidly
and nod my little yellow head
along with you.
(but inside this
 fucked-up mind
 i think i always
 wanted you
 to myself.)

no, i've never been
very good
at sharing my possessions,
if possessions
are what we can call
our very best friends.
but i guess
you conquered that
while i wasn't even looking,
and now you want to teach me
in half the time
that it took you to learn.

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