fuck me with your pants on fuck me with your dick all caught up in the zipper fuck me with your back arching to the sky fuck me with your hand slapping my tight ass fuck me with your blood bursting through your veins fuck me with lustful rage fuck me til the fields of promise are broken and used up fuck me til the awakening sunrise is a sleep deprived distraction fuck me til the harmonious stars are just lights in the sky fuck me til the endless eternal ocean tastes only of salt and no more fuck me til all your poetry turns to lecherous blabber
worried that i won't amount to anything,
that i will never pay off this debt,
that all of my dreams will escape me,
one by one,
popping like bubbles that stray too high
from a child's soap dipper,
blowing into the wind.
already i see it happen,
and it's only realized in hindsight,
"come to spain with me"
"i can't" - but why?
free yourself, and you're free, aaron.
but the problem remains,
it's not just love, or that,
it's a general trend.
and now, a career i don't enjoy
(with financial security) -
secretly i die,
but what of a life of freedom,
is it the thought of always having
the impression of failure written on my brow?