idle hands are the devil's work.

im waiting.
still here.
im just going to sit here and wait for you.
for this.
ive got nothing to do
my hands are free.
i know this is wrong
to let this linger in the air.
to allow this to mist among us.
i know.
there are things that should be said.
between us.
in daylight.
with out closed doors.
with out whispers.
sudden movements.
no shadows on the wall.
you are a horrible person.
with bad habits and a tendency towards violence.
and i
i am that bad habit.
wearing frustration on my chest.
anger up my skirt.
and yet.
we move together so well.
our hands find place in between faces.
reacting purely on sight and smell.
once more.
and them maybe we can say.
and " too much"
and "not again"
once more and we can leave this behind.
looking into your eyes.
is like staring directly at the sun.
touching your skin is like
pressing my hands on hot coals.
over and over and over again.
this i self inflict.
this pain like love like lust
wont change.
so i pray for distance.
and wait for rain.