When I am kissing you, my anxiety stills. I forget the facts that my legs bounce too much and I never quite know what to do with my hands. The sounds of your breath drown out the sounds of our parents telling us what we already figured. The salt of our sweat quickly replaces the salt of my tears, and this is a hunger I've never felt before. Your love is louder than my anger. The pressure of my body against yours is far more satisfying than my fists against these walls. There is a saving grace in your eyes and a strength in your hands, and I no longer feel the need to hold my breath and count to ten. My fingers in your hair are enough to keep me here, but the heat of you so close to me is enough to burn this God-forsaken town. Your tongue soaks up my apathy, and you're inside me body and soul. Loving you means being a part of the human experience, and I have moved beyond the point of just existing. Please
never
stop
kissing
me.
