writings for the infamous

lingering heartache is contagious
enslaving us in cages
bathing us in phases of lust
tangled in confusion and ruin
conveluded intrusions hold loves candle burning
burying intention under waxy sex dreams
it seems we never want to admit it's just dreams
unexplained to the rest of us
emotions get the best of us
it makes me want to scream
water falls from tired lips onto fondled breasts
the rest is a mystery
tucked away carefully; hidden methodically
then shipped away to lost lovers
in what never seems like the last good-bye
I cry because I like to have all the answers
and this time I am just the stamp on the package