Do you write about me sometimes? Do I cross your mind whenever the world becomes too crowded?
We wish to be insecure, anything else would prove us damaged.
My skin shivers whenever I'm close to you, my blood boils.
Don't let me touch you, my veins already run hot and to touch your skin is little motivation to explore.
We wish to be insecure, because then we would have an excuse as to why we were never us.
