You.
There is no effort.
No trying. No work.
In the midst of conversation.
I feel like a man.
And to me, you, feel like a woman.
Two different lives.
Two different pasts.
Occasionally criscrossing.
They've atleast led us to here.
If for a moment, or for however long.
It is.  ...it may not be more than whatever this is.
But selfishly, and as simply as it can be,
it suits my need.
For someone to just be there.

Now, the greater needs...
The important needs...
Are pondered over furiously.
Are considered.....carefully.
The instigation of desire.
Are pushing my days...
And fueling my nights.
It is a slow motion screaming...
God help us when it gains momentum,
And speeds disasterously into a mountain.
Sending hot debris and flames in all directions.

Oddly. I'm not driving that train.
My brain is on its back begging to go faster.
And my heart is looking backward....
Just hoping that it all somehow, eventually,
makes some sort of sense.
But also...hopes...that whatever fills him.
Stays. And doesn't drain and flush out of him.
Even if its poison, he is happy to even be pumping
Something through these lame veins again.

So from where I sit.
I'm here because it makes me feel.
It brings happiness.
It may stop tomorrow.
Or next year.
But as long as my stupid sorrow and sadness
Are held at bay,

You hold my friendly leash.
Ill do whatever you ask.