I have not felt the warmth

I’d lie to describe the texture of your palms

My blankets have grown on me

I’d be bluffing to differentiate them from body heat

The delight always lies on lust

The idea of you bearing the sole pull

My heart remains stagnate

Plenty of regrets I bear

My mistakes comes with no lessons

I’m a hostage of lust

Desperation glee on the driver’s seat

Anomie is my writer’s block

My heart refuses to cooperate

I’d be a hypocrite to define love but trust my definition of lust