Banksoya Sauce

I will never know your body.
I will never feel it pressed onto mine:
For desperation, for love, for comfort.
...

Oh, to rot at your touch,
To lay next to your motionless body,
To wait for my skin to morph into yours;
Growing colder, second by second.
...

The freshness of my skin,
The ripeness of my age,
The taste of tar on my lips.
...

How unbearable is it truly
To be the witness of someone's rotting?
To see the weeds entangle their feet?
To see them tying the knot of destiny?
...

Meeting his gaze, a familiar fog occurs:
Blocking my sight, closing my throat.
This comforting blindless
Now is merely a passing moment.
...

Help me to breathe.
Make every inch of my lungs fill with sweet air
Until my chest expands beyond repair,
Until I crave the suffocation.
...

Waiting for the night to come
With anxiously shaking hands,
Will my eyes feel the bliss of dark tonight?
Or will it simply be the pain of mindfulness?
...

Lacking essential senses,
Does it truly make one's life worse?
Or is it protection from the faults of life?
The abstinence of slumber,
...

Still crawling behind your shadow,
Following the white lines that lead to you:
Maybe they're simply too big for me,
But is it so wrong to be hopeful?
...

Everyone is an empty canvas.
My mind tells me:
'They aren't really present',
'Their mouths don't feel'.
...

The simple thought
Of the pressure on my chest,
Of the warmth taking over me
As someone lays upon't.
...

Wet patches form on my aching shoulder.
The trees only cover half of the bench.
If you allowed me to,
I would sit in the open.
...

I am the muppet of all:
On constant display,
Whether dead asleep or devastatingly alive.
...

I watch your lines;
The way they form your face,
Running down your nose,
Caressing your cheeks.
...

Maybe I deserve it:
The hooks hanging onto my stomach,
Ripping my smooth skin to shreds.
...

I don't care for your small details.
Please conceal every thought.
Just let me admire your being
Without the complications.
...

To dance naked in your eyes
was to be just seen by you.
All of me in your mind:
Just a mere normality.
...

The shepherd, the leader of the pack:
Could you choose to lead me on instead?
Through the wild winds, wilder forests;
Could you give me an answer before then?
...

Dying carnations, failing to nourish,
Yet awaiting the young Amy to flourish;
Soft skin, on her face a red blemish,
Yet it's still not time to replenish.
...

Thin carvings sit on a rock
Bending and swirling with time
The rain has trickled down within
Wrote over what was once mine
...