Sparks Next To THAT Fire.

I feel it in the air,
The sparkle that precedes,
The storm in the blaze.

Can you feel it too?

Who are you trying to impress,
With those clothes and charisma,
The intricate game of chess,
So that we can all see your bra.

It sickens me to the bone,
Your smile and attitude,
To be sought and known,
And craving gratitude.

My hate is not envy,
Not blind desire,
It is just that I see,
What you require,
That binds us.