Baby, I'm drowning. Deep, deep, down - drowning. Choking like you wanted me to, struggling to catch my breath and exhale it all over the idea of a world without this bubble. My bubble is collapsing, and it's dragging me along. Choking, drowning, struggling - I'm all out of hope. The idea of a world - my world - without this feeling of impending adventure and recklessness is killing me, annihilating me. You were mine for five moments, for five choked breaths... I was yours right from the start, and I'll still be until I can get myself back. It was never about love and it was so much better. It was dark, and lusty, and wrong, and fucking exciting... it was never about love. It was about me, being genuine and owning my desires - feeding them. It was about me gaining some false control; it was about you giving it to me, to simply take it away after a few moans. You moaned, I whimped, I felt horny all the damn time. I still do. When it comes to you, I'll always do. I'll always feel. I'll always wish for more. I'll always regret what I feared. I'll always be proud of what I didn't. I'll always think of those first days, and these last ones. I'll always think. I'll always think you - of you, above you, underneath you. I.will.always.do.
I'll long for your touch and whispers, for your lack of inhibitions and roughness. I'll look for it somewhere else - I'll crave it. I do. I crave your yous so bad. Your colours, my true ones, our torrid fling. It means so little and so much, it conflicts me. It makes my heart feel heavy. It's sinking it in my chest, carving a hole until it abandons me completely. I feel it out, I feel it after you - desperate. I feel so desperate. So scared. I don't want this to end, but it did. It did so abruptly. I'm more hurt and wasted than confused. Wasted. So wasted. Waste me, please - wash me away. Wash off the doubts, the second thoughts, the inhibitions... rip them off me! I need them gone, GONE. Wash me. Want me. Want me hard. Lust for me, like I do for you. LUST. Lust longer, want me harder, crave me back. Keep my city. Treasure it with its moans and chokes. Wear it off with your cummed jeans, wipe my hands once more on them. Feel my leg and my heat until it burns me inside. Wipe my hands. Guide them. They need you. Your tictacs. Your tireness and overworked eyes. Your filthy habits. Your mess of a life. Of a house. Of a car. Your dirty car, my sanctuary. My safe place, the place where I wore my true colours with pride.
Oh please, just take me back. Take me forward- so, so much forward. Take me away and back to my city, our city, our wood of easy flirts and difficult encounters. Of dirty texts and awkward phone calls. Of adult pretends and childish watching. Of lustful stares and trembling moves.
Keep my city. Keep the memory of me somewhere over your geeky walls. Keep it there where it made sense for me to be. Keep it. Just keep me.
0 comentarios:
Publicar un comentario