complacent

we dont talk about (sex)

we don't talk about the way he puts his hands on her hips
and we don't want to remember the brokenness we feel when we
we're
left
on the side of the road and never get our fill
we don't talk about what comes after
and the dreams we have in our minds of eloping
because not a single person I've let inside
has decided they want the same as I do
and every person I've ever loved
will never
love me
back like I love them
I always win the I love you more fights
and I want to scream because when all of my insides except for my brain
pull towards someone who will probably not end up being the person
I spend my entire life with like I want
we don't talk about mixed feelings of tension and stomach turning
nauseousness from frustration and longing.
we don't talk about sex
because in the end, sex is all we are,
all people define us by
and all they will see us as.
don't ask about who I've done,
about where I've been, and
about how I cry after I am left behind.
because we don't talk about sex.