You took me under your wing to
slowly nip away at my self-worth;
I followed your silk laden voice, my
ears dying to hear something beautiful.
You led me to a chamber to share
alone, and my heart sank down
into the fields below.

You place your hands on the small
of my back, and whisper in my ear.
Something fitting for the occasion.
And I fall into the gilded sheets
because I always fall; I always
assume the best inside bodies
void of emotional attachment.

It can't be; it'll never be.
But it doesn't stop me:

It doesn't stop me form staying
beneath you while you feather me
with dry, cracked lips. And possess
my spirit with terms of endearment.
And I let you take the best parts
of me.