Sometimes I get drunk, and it's very rarely that I do. And It's even more rare that I start writing when I'm drunk. Well, this was one of those occasions. It's not great. It just is.
I want you.
I want your skin to touch mine,
and I want to hear your voice,
and I want you to tell me about your day,
and I want to dive into your imagination and hold your hand,
because that's where I belong.
I want us to share our fears,
and to smell each other like the instinctual animals that we actually are,
because we think too much,
and we say too much,
and we write too much,
but all we want to be is these primal creatures that just love each other by default,
and get lost in each other without words.
We don't need to talk.
I know this,
because when my hand goes down from your neck down your spine,
and my nails scratch you gently,
I feel your whole body curve under my touch,
and that tells me exactly how you feel.
We don't need to talk,
because you touch my chest,
and you breathe into my mouth when you kiss me,
and from the rhythm of your breath,
and from how long it takes you until you breathe again,
I know how you feel.
And because we are such trusting creatures,
you get to be your worst,
and I am not afraid of you,
and you talk to me about dark things,
and I absorb it all,
because I can take it.
And this is how I know how you feel.
And sometimes you hurt me.
But it's OK.
Because you hurt ME,
and not someone else,
and I can take it,
because I am you,
and you are me,
and it's all good because we are both freaks.
And I love you deeply,
from the DNA,
and you are YOU,
a mystical being that remains untouchable,
regardless of how deep I touch you.
