Burn In Hell.

Just for once.
If only for a little bit.
Maybe no longer than it takes to forget a dream.
I just want to really believe.
Not want.
Not hope.
Not wish.
But to believe.
To feel something unquestioning.
To be free of the doubts.
To have them not turn out right.
To see her smile
And not hear my brain warn of lies.
To reach out and not hesitate
Waiting to be rejected
Or worse, half caressed.
Like a talk show host hug-n-kiss.
All smiles once the camera is on,
Once the roll is in play.
And after, behind the scene,
It is diluted intelligence and selfish laughter.
Flesh once so hot now a scar. A burn.
And passion.
Dire Passion.
Lost.
Luster of broken luxury.