let the right one in

The rain doesn’t seem to stop. It’s a constant drumming on the roof, knocking knocking.

Let me in lover, let me wash that filthy skin.

Let me cleanse that dirty soul, those hedonistic impure thoughts.

I’ll take your dark eyes and make them mine. People will look in and see only what they expect.

But then I go outside, barefoot, and feel nothing besides the wet ground underneath my feet.

Not even the rain wants me.

I  can’t feel anything

just the salty trails of past indescretions

and a need to reach out and feel your hand in mine.