Is It Special?

Does this mean anything to you?

Is it special in your eyes?

When you lay me down and strip me?

When I fondle with you?

Do you see me as just an object,

Something that can please you?

Do you see me and imagine that it's her?

Is it special?

Or just something you want because she won't give it to you?

Sometimes I stop and actually think about it,

And I ask myself,

"Is this really special?"

Is it really something that I want to do,

Just to do it?

It feels amazing,

I can't deny that.

You hit that one spot and I can't get enough.

But that drug takes over.

Just before I go to sleep, sometimes,

I stay awake and stare at my ceiling.

Is it worth it?

I don't like you like that . . .

You're in a relationship . . .

I wonder what will happen after,

When you get tired.

When I get tired.

When we get found out.

I wonder if it'll seem so special then,

And if it'll feel like it's worth it.

Is it special enough to risk the small things,

The tiny things that mean a lot.

The microscopic things that can change anything.


Is it special enough to risk that?