Number Sixteen.
God, it’s like you’ve got my body in a trance my mind locked into your being. I think about you now, more than I probably should. I want that touch and that embrace, but you walk away. You always say you gotta’ leave, even when I want you to stay. I know that the situation is sticky, and I wish no harm to you … or the other. But, something has to give and something has to work. For once, there’s something and it feels good. Maybe it should just stay like this; maybe I need to get my shit together before we can go there. That’s okay, I’m fine, I’m fine. I’ll manage this, I’ll stop my bitching. You make me melt.
Number Fifteen.
It’s been years, but it feels like last night this was all happening. I remember lying on blue sheets, drunk and talking about my feelings. I remember a lot of things, but even if I remember them it doesn’t mean that I have to still feel anything. But I do, I do, boy I do.
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