He exists only because he isn't you.
Another pallid replacement eclipsing shadows of boredom, haunting your trail of breadcrumbs.
I press my skin against the stone divide.
I am not tempted to look, because you do not wish me to.
I belong to your structures, permeated only once by your touch.
It was enough to mark me with a fingerprint of your own.
A scarred etching, painted on the sworls and loops of my soul.
I want to be your peculiar something that can't be quantified or understood.
A conformation to a blasphemy that denies even the most perverse mediocrity.
A walking abomination to even the most libertine societal outcast.
There are no rules, only yours. Only what we deem possible.
If only it were possible.
Acceptance is defeat cloaked in civility, but dream savages it's confinement.
White picket fences burn in effigy.
I come again chasing the remnant ghost of your touch.
