Maybe it's a little fucked up. Maybe it's a little messy. But god do I crave the feeling I imagine of ripping myself open for you. Tear down who I am in words. Simple black and white. No fancy colors or fonts. Rip apart myself from the inside out. Just feel myself be open to you.
But maybe it's too soon. Or maybe your kiss is intoxicating enough. It causes electricity to run through my bloodstream and I want to burn. More over and over. I never want to feel calm again.
Maybe it's the way you kiss me. So gentle. Yet your hands follow one another along my skin as if it's a map. Finding their way to my hips just to pull me closer. Gripping at me for dear life.
I feel alive.
I feel beautiful.
I'm drunk on this feeling.
I'm alive with this feeling.
Then it ends to soon, lips chase for another taste. I'm stuck wanting more so desperately. Like a starved man. But oxygen calls, and I damn it for the inconvenience. I want more now but deep breaths begin to feel like heaven. Just as lidded eyes meet mine.
Maybe it's a little messy with the way my shirt has bunched up.
Maybe it's a little fucked up because god this can't be sane?
But I craved to be open for you.
You ripped me from the inside out. All I had to say and ever will say painted on your skin.
It's an animalistic need to feel close to you.
And god baby am I an animal.
Pull me closer fuck I can't think straight.
Teeth and tongue clash together as we fight for some sort of dominance.
Fingers dig into skin and suddenly it's you holding me on earth.
You're my drug, my happiness, my undoing, the end of who I was yet the beginning of who I am to be.
Hands become messy limbs. Lips become numb. Hearts are racing.
Hands find each other and soon enough the rest is history.
