Where I am most insecure,
his fingertips caress my skin.
When I whisper his name,
he responds with a kiss.

Where bruises and scars stain my flesh,
his love washes away the sin.
The memories that still hurt my soul
he brushes away with his lips.

Like beautiful cursive letters,
he draws lines of love on my body that heals
and he writes a scripture of lust
that only he can read, and only I can feel.

He kisses me twice
because I hate odd numbers.
He puts his hand on my leg when he drives
because my hand anxiously grips the handle above the door.
He holds my head to his chest
even though my fists beat against him.
He puts aside his problems
when I am hyperventilating.
And now he is gone.
He's someone else's.
Someone who doesn't care if one is an imperfect number,
someone who can smile in a car going 60 miles per hour,
someone who's anxiety doesn't resort to violence,
someone who can breath.
I miss him so much
I miss him so much that I lock the door once.
I drive my own car to the spot we used to park to relax.
I take deep breaths when my head is a mess to remember what it felt like to breath into his chest.
She doesn't know what it's like to need him.
I don't know what it's like to only want him.
He doesn't know what it's like to be free.

I know he's made mistakes,
I understand he isn't fair.
But he makes my sunken heart fly
when his fingers travel through my hair.

His lips are stained with broken hearts,
His soul is tainted with their tears.
I know it's wrong and it will hurt,
but my body wants him near.

It will be the last time I get hurt
until tomorrow
It will be the last time I fall for a ****
until tomorrow
I swear to never disrespect myself again
until tomorrow
I promise to no more inflict my own pain
until tomorrow.

I swear I will hold my pride
I will stand it on my empty lies
that somewhere beneath these knotted ties
is a girl that truly relies
on herself for love.
She relies on tomorrow.

i write because paper
always listens