hero worship.

tell me,
do you know what it's like
to want something so bad
that you convince yourself you already have it?
because I do.
I tell myself everyday that I belong to you.

you're the deity of a temple you're yet to see
and I'm an unashamed devotee
my pathetic little room has become a rather glorious shrine
with pictures of you hanging proudly on the walls
and whispered prayers echoing of surrender
every night.
I know not how to stifle these yearning moans and aching cries.
my trembling fingers are still learning to worship your skin,
still familiarizing themselves in mine.

I seek for you in silence like it's my only calling
and as my thoughts get louder, immodest,
the secrecy of my submission has become
a humble pleasure I've grown to indulge.
yet,
the thought of your knock at my door
sends a shiver down my spine-
it's like I'm tempted to let you inside.
I guess I'm just a foolish boy who found
the forbidden fruit the very first time he looked up at the sun
and I've been staring since,
waiting since
to be blessed with its taste on my tongue
is this divine Eros, or sinful Agape?
I've been on my knees for a while, my dear
won't you atleast humour me?