Nature is such a tease, giving me light to leisure myself with words. One by one my eyes consume these impure Irish fantasies, like a ravenous child, starving for affection.
A dangerous man you are lurking in the shadows of my mind, invading my inner being, and drowning my soul in dark pleasures.
I’ve been warned about you and have tried running, but cannot with these chains binding me and tainting my mind.
When I’ve finally read the last page, my lips finished with the last syllable, will your grip release me from your tantalizing ways that damage my soul or will I thirst still for something I cannot have?
Keystroke Stories 