Two Sides to Every Story

physical touch

Your love language is words of affirmation.

Its almost a contradictory statement,

because you always seem to forget the words,

I need to hear.

My love language is physical touch,

but you'll only fall to your knees

at the mouth of my bayonet.

I reach out to comb through your hair,

but you only enjoy it when,

my pistol is pressed against your skull.

You want my finger on the trigger,

while I spit bars,

accusing you of cheating at the bar — last Tuesday night.

"Right?"

don't act like you forgot,

we both know what I'm talking about,

where are your words now?

his "song" and your "garden",

are all manipulation tactics,

did you seriously expect me to fall for it?

Eve,

you bit the forbidden fruit,

you let him lick the juice off your lips,

when you haven't let me touch you in months.

you are not the innocent one.

You smile,

while I push the gun harder into you,

this is the closest we've been in months.

I can feel your body heat,

your sweat dripping onto me,

and into my gun.

I force the gun even harder,

now my leg is against your chest,

and I can feel you fill with air.

I think you're scared.

your heart is racing,

pulsating at 200 miles per hour,

and each beat reverberates on my knee.

I can't help but like it,

the sensation of your skin,

only guarded by a thin piece of fabric.

so, I give you what you like

my lost words and phrases,

sewn together to make you feel something.

I think you're starting to fall for me.

I slide the gun down your head,

slowly,

but I don't move,

so we can feel the recoil together,

as I shoot it in the air.

You tell me,

"It's like we got our power back after a hurricane"

and I smile.

You turn the A/C down,

I take my shirt off,

and you wrap yourself around me.

I've forgiven you.

we haven't been this close in months,

your thin shirt.

stuck to my bare skin.

you're still whispering about nothing,

but now I feel your breath on my neck,

and your nails in my back.

I think you finally heard me when I said,

my love language is physical touch,

so hold me 'till everything is healed.

I think I've fallen for you.

It's a ridiculous sentiment,

neither of you are capable

of falling for the other.

Both caught up in your own love language,

you won't say the right things forever,

and she won't touch you for eternity.

Neither of you will ever be fine.