What's right?

Trapped of this world of thinking what is right and wrong,
     the body, the flesh, my lust has it's needs. Needs to feel this idea
of pleasure . . . desire. Physical contact that feels
                                                                              so right. And wanted.

Is this love? No. Is there an attraction? Yes. Attraction of looks?
Maybe. Attraction of the person? I don't know. The body
       calls for the feeling it's strong and demanding
it calls when it wants and needs to be addressed. I cannot get it out of
   my head. . . It has taken over my mind. Constantly going

in this fantasy world of ideas, passions and pleasurable moments.
moments that I have been thinking about that are not finally
happening. . . I wondered what they would be like. This fantasy.

                     This is no fantasy though. These action are
happening. I have no will to stop. I keep asking and creating them. They
are on my mind c o n s t a n t l y. I cannot control them. All I
             want and need is to know what he would do to me
when I did what i said to him.
                                                I get no answer.
                                                                          I am the longing on.

              Are these feeling okay or should I stop?
I don't talk about it because I don't want my actions to be know
but he knows. I won't talk about them with him. . . But He knows.

Heart aching, flowing over with anger and heart break
      you brought these ideas in my head. These
promises you had no intention of following through on. Words
             that hold no meaning to you
besides an end goal you hope to reach and accomplish.
     Silly boy, did your mother not teach you properly?

Playing with a girls heart, she fights back, and this one
   has a
             mean punch
                                 with a world of issues she's not afraid
to hold back on. You giggle like the other girls huddled in
     a circle. With a smile that is obnoxious on that
face of yours. Promises. Yeah that what I remember
 
             I promise it was only once.

Only once with her. Then the rest of the alphabet tends to follow
                     in the only once situation.

I can stare and pray that you are who I've made you up to be
in my mind. Fellow of pride, respect, and someone I wish to call mine.
                  HA! My secret. My pleasure. My douche.
Those seems to flow right out of the mouth so easily.
What about when you were my friend? Lover? Person who made me happy?
Are you still that person? Or have those been taken away?
Moments of peace just looking in your eyes with it all feeling right.
Then you say you don't want to explain yourself because then I could
get the wrong idea. . . Making a girl feel useless and leaving her that
way is the better bet?

Your Mama didn't raise you right.
          Or you ignored her when saying you will break girls heart
if you don't respect them. Respect seemed easy.
     To show respect you need to respect yourself. Lying to
the one you say your closet with, how can you love anyone?

The blood on my hands should feel cold,
they can't see it, but I do. Every time
I look down. Covered in deep red. I've
never seen anything like it. I held your
Heart in my hands. Your bare heart, vain
straining to push blood that were no longer
connected to. It's beautiful and surreal.

The street continues as I take steps hearing
the clanking of my heels. Stilettos on a cement
sidewalk in the heart of winter. This is the life
I now live since I've killed you. An established
women in the higher ups. They first saw me as the
sad broken hearted girl who they were giving
a break. It was only a broken heart. You were the bastard who lost.