Low Battery, High Voltage
My body keeps running on battery—low,
Once full of fire, now moving slow.
But deep inside, I feel the spark return,
A quiet charge, a restless burn.

It’s not in my plan to drift through the night,
I’m still drawn to her touch, to her firelight.
These arms remember the shape of her needs,
I'm tethered tight, wherever she may lead.

There’s magic in how she whispers my name,
That auburn hair, that soft frame—
She pulls me close, drains me down slow,
Till I’m running on fumes, but I don’t let go.

She leans in close, a spark in her smile,
Her touch hits deep—I pause for a while.
Like jumper cables to a worn-out spark,
She lights me up in the midnight dark.

Time for renewal, with a gentle touch of grace,
In the quiet night, in our healing space.
My eager heart, a charge I couldn't keep—
But I’d drain every drop just to keep loving you.

💭 If these words spoke to you… pass ’em on.

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This porch light’s on for everyone.