Lust
Lust to me can mean many things. You can lust for a person. You can lust for power. You can lust for money. You can lust for love. Lust is a dangerous thing. It can hypnotize you into being it's slave, slowly dragging you along with a golden chain. It can mesmerize you, causing your eyes to sparkle and your heart to pound. It can ruin you, drowning you in it's waves until there is nothing left. When did we decide to lust for things? Did we just wake up one day and say,
"Hey, I want you to lust for me."
Or were we always capable of feeling this? Were we always able to feel the burning sensation of lust, the bubbly feeling of affection, the blinding light of love, the soothing ache of someone actually caring? If so then why don't I feel any of those things? Why don't I feel the blazing fires of lust lick against my cheek? Why don't I feel the bursts of affection shake my core? Why don't I feel loves light blind me from its illumination? Why don't I feel the overwhelming rush of cares waves wash over me? If everyone is capable of feeling such trivial emotions then why am I so alone? Why does no one seem to lust for me?
I want you to lust for me.