The night moves slowly,
Sensual touches every second,
My breath catches; this is unholy,
And my mind starts racing.
Racing back to when he touched me in the garage,
But his touch leaves a new burn.
I was in bed with my sweet man,
While he traced small circles in my skin,
Thats when the memories began,
And I was in the garage.
The garage where my life,
Took the worst turn.
When his hands left scars up my thighs,
And bruises on my ribs,
Makeup was my best disguise,
And no one knew.
Knew about the garage,
Where my soul wasnt a concern.
How do i get back to my sweet man,
Instead of this ******* who lives in my head,
I need to come up with a plan,
Where i get out alive.
Alive and free,
No longer in the garage i return.
I will not return whole,
I am battered and broke,
Be patient with my soul,
Thats all i ask.
Tell me im not in the garage,
And hold me til i yearn.
Yearn not for the pain,
But for the green flowers on my counter,
For how i feel sane,
And heard.
I was not heard in the garage.
But i am now.
hes patient w me and thats all i could ever ask for
(ignore when i take it down in 2mo *****)
