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I can feel your eyes on the back of my neck.
They send chills up my spine like on a cold winter's day.
Yet whenever it stops, I miss the chills.
I miss my yearning to turn back and grasp you in my arms.
Yet there is still the temptation, the one I love and Hate.
It will always be there.
The urge to slowly slide my hands,
Around your throat,
And squeeze.
©2008-2010 ~guitar-insanity
:iconguitar-insanity:

Author's Comments

This poem came from what seemed to be nowhere but as it came out I felt pressure come off my chest. It was odd.

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October 12, 2008
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