I wouldn’t hold it past you to say the world in which you see is marked by my skin
it wouldn’t be fair to bind you tightly by words and ideas
when all that are mine are vehement
about you, about me, about the dust that makes my bones
In the way a cougar fights to live, the owner fights to tame
there passion ignites, whether it be false or not, it burns
I can only sink in for so long, till the breathe I took becomes stale
I’d always be searching for more
Or searching to be found
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