75. W - Writer

I'm a naked person
By my desire, my words, even the way I look at you
I'm a lustful, desirous person
Not for your beauty or body
But for your story
I will walk into you very subtly
And start plucking those shards of glasses
One by one
Letting your crevices bleed
Like a lover, I will romanticize every drop of it
Hug you tight, yet dig deep into your wounds
This will be a therapeutic journey
For your wounds to heal
And my pages to fill
I will feel your pain,
I shall alone be the one triggering it

I'm a horrible person
Driven by my desire, my words and stories
I'm a numb, horrible person
I'm interested in everything but you
Or maybe even you but temporarily
Till I seep into every bit of you
Watch you bleed, make love
Only until I paint you in my poetry
For then it's over, for me you're done
In the some time
I will fill you with so much of me
No where else solace you'd see
You'd be thirsty, unquenched
My spirit, the energy, would've got you drenched
But I can just not stay anymore
It's not in my control
Your blood, your wounds
Now won't be able to hold me back
Neither have I chosen this
Waiting longer will just burn you into ashes
As now my existence will be of no use
Coz I'm a writer and you were my muse...