sick of hunting, let me be the prey

thinks it's high time someone came into my life
and held themselves in place because that is where they want to be.
i'm sick of searching. come find me.

i am the deer licking salt
easy prey
constantly put out in the open
like teenage girl's cleavage
like prepubescent boy's dirt-stache
i'm innocent
but you want to fire anyway
whether it be for food
to sustain you through cold months
something to warm your belly
and cover you in the dark night
or for sport
to place a trophy on your mantle
something to tell tall tales about to friends
it doesnt matter

if you want me
i'm standing in the open
i'll never see it coming
and if i did
i'd be a deer in the headlights
and let you hit me

full
force

lips tasting like radiator grills
breathing heaving exhaust and pavement
guts ripping open so your tires
can run over my heart
leaving marks
like the bullet
ripping through flesh
exploding blood and gore
on the surroundings
in a modern art painting
of fatal romance

come find me
i'll be licking salt