His hands on my body
Were cold, cold,
Cold hands on warm flesh
Like when you open
The back of the bra
On a cold winter day
Cold hands on warm flesh
I can feel them again
Goosebumps run down
My back and I double over
Like I didn't then
Cold hands on warm flesh
That make you want to
Run away from your own fingers
Only those weren't my fingers
And I wasn't the one
Unhooking my bra.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
His hands on my body
Were cold, cold,
Cold hands on warm flesh
Like when you open
The back of the bra
On a cold winter day
Cold hands on warm flesh
I can feel them again
Goosebumps run down
My back and I double over
Like I didn't then
Cold hands on warm flesh
That make you want to
Run away from your own fingers
Only those weren't my fingers
And I wasn't the one
Unhooking my bra.
This is the first time I've written about this. Actual, physical stuff. It seems somewhat detached from me, but still I want to throw up.