Naive

I keep coming back to you

It may seem inevitable

I could stop

I could leave

It’s a wonderful kind of agony

Relieving ice on burning flesh

The sweet sound of nothingness

A strong hunger beckoning

It is done by my design

I seek you out actively

You will always pull me down

For I have made you my gravity

The ice will only come

If flesh continues to burn

I can stop

I just don’t want to