shooting the moon

can you win the game by losing every round?

i was all in, mind, body, heart, soul

every piece of me weighed heavy with you, a beautiful burden so willingly bore 

never questioning my devotion, unconditionally on your side

serial losses never fazed me, being far from land left dry, but rather used to the quicksand that comes from loving you 

i would always willing to sink for you, assuming you would liberate and save me from myself

losing for you was never the trouble, but rather losing for myself

unable to face consequences and terrified to reap that of which i am deserving 

failing to appease you, leaves me now undone, the repercussions looming i sense my own unraveling

can i lose enough to win you, as my exclusive light

dying slowly to please you, shall it garner me delights of the flesh or passions of the blood

coursing through my veins fueling my beating heart

is that blood or is it you you causing me to flutter uncontrollably when you beckon me to you

one call and i am present here for you to use and abuse

leave me bruised and battered as long as you say ‘i love you’ 

yes this love is painful and leaves me worn and weak

but i am yours exclusively not for anyone else to take

no matter what their record states or what they’ve come to win

i stand by your side faithfully through each one of your sins

through lust through fear through anger

and the fire in your soul

that burns the corners of my heart and crevices of my brain

this is not called a game of hearts so why is mine in pain

if we lose every time can we see some victory, if no one else can do what it takes to be you and be me

then you are stuck with me and I with you

I never questioned my loyalty, always your unwavering slave

I feared nothing that I had to face, the pain could never faze 

if you really want the truth I can offer it unto you

the demons under my bed are so big and they chased me right to you

your monsters they never scared me, they couldn’t chase me away

I felt safer in the arms of your monsters, than laying alone in my bed

waiting for one to come to me and whisper those words in my head

so I guess I’ll continue to follow, never giving up on you

heroin never drew me in, but I am addicted to you

they always lace it with the good stuff, at least that’s what the dealer says

and it seems that my drug of choice is regrets laced into you