i stopped writing about you not because i forgot about you,
but because the mere thought of you makes my hands explode, shake, gnaw,
pick at all the skin you whispered to me was
beautiful
the mere thought of you sends my heart into a slow melt,
you make it feel like july on the inside
where you’re hot and sweaty and far too close to one another
i can’t write about you anymore because the fragile thoughts in my head
would be destroyed by the heavy weight of your influence