touches burn
but they're a coping mechanism
skin to skin contact
makes my blood boil
and yet i crawl back to you
and you
and you
i don't want this
feeling of loss of control
i want to feel
like i'm in charge
and i want to keep it that way
but
at the end of it
when i find myself
tangled in these sheets
the flood gates open
the memories of
previous touches
fill me and bile
rises to the back
of my throat
i don't want this
not with you
or you
or you, and yet
i keep coming back for more
i don't like it rough
even if i insist on it
i don't like the sounds i make
or the feeling of my nails
sweeping up your skin cells
and yet i crave it
crave the sense of autonomy
crave the feeling of power
that surges within when
i'm astride you
and you
and you
it keeps me a little sane, kind of
it's easier to do this
when i don't feel anything for you
or you
or any of you
because emotions are a cage
i don't come back to this
to fall in love
but i'm not running away
from it, either
but what i seek is control
the faux sense of holding
the reins in my hands
is exhilarating
as it is emotionally exhausting
but believe me, it's better this way
using my fears as a tool
to run away from what
makes me curl up into a ball
and cry myself raw
is deliciously paradoxical
in the moments of
highest ecstacy
i am the most devoid of
thoughts and feelings of you
and you
and you
but of you, especially
a gasp for air
a pull of your hair
the walls bouncing
my pleads back to me
can't you see?
this pretty little scene
is nothing but another
unhealthy coping mechanism
that i, as a faulty human being
decided to adopt
touches burn
they burn from the tips of your fingers
to the innermost corner of my soul
languid kisses
playful caresses
they're painful
and yet i keep coming back to you
and you
and you
