I’ll run my hands through your hair and gather the thoughts that make their home in your mind. Grip my thighs hard enough to leave the bruises on my skin shaped like misconceptions and sin. And I swear that I’ll wear down that opposition the same way you wear down my patience. But patience is a virtue and momma always taught me to wear white. Oh, these words are getting stale as they sit on my lips, struggling to break free while I tell you this. That I don’t need, but want. That I don’t like, but love. That I don’t feel, but crave, and ache, and want, and need, and love all at once. A walking contradiction dressed in makeup and curls. Run away with me, I scream from the top of my lungs while I stand on the pier. Telling my secrets to no one but hoping everyone will listen. I’ll whisper my secrets in that bottle you gave me and toss it in the ocean hoping that it will get to you standing five feet from me. But I’m content with friendship, and I’ll live with the laughs and the look in your eyes when you say my name. I’ll store them away for another rainy day.