“Just you and only you. You fit so perfectly in my arms, in my bed and between my legs.”

I’m still trying to fix up the wreckage you left behind, the chaotic strings of misery you let fall to the floor. Each piece delicately piercing my skin, the red glow a contrast to my continual white limbs.

Dreams of our last night together left a tingling feeling like a splinter in my skin. I couldn’t grasp it, but the glorious pain sat brewing into my bones.

Don’t let them take any more of your heart that you’ve already given them. Hold onto what you have left and build it again.

Rainbow sugar, candied eyes. You have the potential to crack me open and let my feelings spill right onto the floor.

Your euphoric eyes hold me hostage.

I don’t mind wasting my hours with you.

You make the ocean in the pit of my stomach surge with overwhelming intensity.

This winter is quite inviting knowing your warm hands will be upon mine every minute.

I seek out your skin at night.

I want to have my best days with you.

There won’t be anyone else. I can tell you that right now. Your eyes show me that you don’t believe that just yet. Even if it takes me months or years. I’ll make you believe it so.

Theres a lover in you somewhere.

You have hues of love on your skin.

Down upon my tongue I feel your skin sigh. A touch of sensual, luxury, and statisfy.

I hope when she touches you it burns holes into your skin and leaves scars where my lips would have been.

I’ll let you grab my hips any day of the week, if only you promise to pull me close and whisper that I’m the best view you’ve ever seen.

I did my time in the jail of your arms.

It behooves a prudent person to make trial of everything before arms.

In my opinion it is less shameful for a king to be overcome by force of arms than by bribery.

Why do strong arms fatigue themselves with frivolous dumbbells? To dig a vineyard is worthier exercise for men.

Don’t try to fix me, just wrap your arms around my broken and love my pieces.

Let it go, just let it go, but if I set down that weight what will show my arms they are strong?

You fall into my arms. You are the good gift of destruction’s path, When life sickens more than disease And boldness is the root of beauty – Which draws us together.

The repose of nations cannot be secure without arms, armies cannot be maintained without pay, nor can the pay be produced without taxes