Wrote This Unconscious

have you ever traveled time? because i have

used my hands and his back

as an old worn out map

returning to a supposed to be distant town

reembarking on all of the familiar roads, setbacks and turnarounds

a bit redundant for you to bite my tongue, too

a bit ironic for me to look for anything inside of you

you did not feel a thing, as your fingers retraced and taunted

meanwhile i was feeling that worst feeling, the wanting to be wanted

sharing everything, except for our cups of water, and your cover

i dig so terribly deep for emptiness, i always surface with something or other

well your bare skin nocuously took me down that lane
funny that i should feel the same, or feel even more increasingly inane

mapward, the more familiar, the more lost