He was cold,
and my blood was warm.
I was his first **** after a long winter.
He had my body pinned,
down in the snow bed,
and this was the end for me.
I would be his feast,
and no one else would ever have me.

"Don’t be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends."
Richard Bach -The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah

Part of me always wanted to fix it.
Part of me always wanted it to be you.
Then part of me always wondered what you were keeping me from.
I missed ragged breathing,
I missed drunken binges,
I missed feeling alive.
Now all I seem to miss is you.

"You like me too much."
"You don't like me enough."
"That's not true..."

I'll never forget the night you slammed the door.
It was the same night you grabbed my face and screamed my name.
I'll never forget that night you drove to my apartment drunk,
then told me later it was a lie.
I'll never forget the night in the park.
The night you screamed at me for getting high,
screamed at me for cheating while high.
The night I found out you went through my phone,
while I slept quietly in your bed, four months ago.

Here we are now.
I'm clean,
except for the occasional *******.
That's my secret.
You're drunk,
more often than I'd like you to be.
So what's your secret?

So do I slam doors?
Should I grab your face and scream your name?
Do I take you to the park in the middle of the night?

Unfortunately, no.
I'm the only one who makes mistakes here.

I think about your bare skin,
carresed by the sheets.
I think about your touch,
is it rough? Is it kind?
I think about how you sleep at night,
with someone in your bed.
Do you bite the lip of the person kissing you?
Did their breathing change?
How does your hair smell?
Maybe it smells like rain.

Thoughts of you haunt.
Thoughts of you touching the person I love.