Any excuse for her to touch him.
"Put my books in there."
"Are my hands cold?"
"Feel right here, is that my pelvic bone?"
Because oh God, did he ever hate to admit it.
But he craved her touch like a heroin addict.
And to be sat right there, staring into her eyes.
Not having her touch him, would kill him.
YOU ARE READING
2AM Thoughts
PoetryAll pieces of poetry are based off true stories; Give credit; Hope you relate and I think most will; I <3 you guys; Thanks Keys; Love your Keeper Of The Keys
