Dear John #4
My mind is a scavenger.
It feeds on things that are already dead.
Things that died a long time ago.
It scavenge on the remains of my sad memories of you.
Your naked still warm flesh still lingers like it was yesterday.
I can still feel how you thrust your lust and passion into my fragile soul.
Your stare that crave me...your wanting..still haunts me.
Your moan deafens me until now... ringing... playing in my mind.
How long will I nourish onto these immemorial carcass.
And when everything is gone...
Would you be also?