Here we are again, unable to inhibit
the uncontrollable urge
the compulsion, the addiction
stripped of our normal capacity for free will
we are slaves of our desires
caged in the barbed wires of boredom
life, too normal, too unexciting
so we find each other and indulge ourselves
in these moments, stolen
between kisses and touches
whispers
knowing full well that each second spent
is a second lost
unofficially lived; unrecorded history
for you I have fallen
with your sweet voice
your soft touch
your warmth
but know that I'm not fooled
not even for a moment
I know that he's always waiting
and you'll always return to his embrace
so readily, habitually
he's promised to be there
which, from the sound of it, is more of a promise
than any that you can give me
so leave, please, before I wake
from this made up story of love
because there is no such love
no glory nor heroism
it is pure fucking self-indulgence
and I am not here to give your life meaning
or make up for what he cannot give you
I could like you, I think
or even love you, maybe
but I don't imagine it makes a hair of a difference to you
because he's there