What do I desire?
The allure of her dark, metallic hair.
The undeniable crush of a deep and promiscuous kiss.
Or do I?
Am I instead drowning in the sin of my culture?
Told what to desire by a nation of demons?
Huxley* abounds! Instead of contemplating greatness,
I fall off the planet with each passing female.
And then I realize…
God has been diluted like the cheap vodka
that blinds people to him.
This is not the American dream!
I am not in love with a girl at all…
*Aldous Huxley (1894-1963)
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