no, I don't like to share

I don't know what I'd do with this blog if you ever leave

I just picked up the smell of your inclination on my bolster and

Before I know it I'll taste you in my sleep
God, I'm tired, I'm so worn out from a rest without escapism
I need a life with lucidity
Please, not a love with certain vacancies
I need more permanence than dime sized bruises on my hipbones
We grow entirely new cells in 7 years and hell,
I just read somewhere you'll have new lungs in 6 weeks,
New tastebuds in 10 days,

Fuck, when I have you all to myself at last are you even you anymore?

Are you even mine anymore?

So, leave the guarding to the dogs and the loving to the lost,
he's mine.