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It's all just words and writings
The will to feel each other skin to skin while sleeping in one bed
you want me, don’t deny it
you know it’s not right, it won't be right
Trying to distract myself from crying
telling you perverse ideas
Making you sweat and tell me what you’d do to me if I were there
The ideas get more grousome each time we talk
tickets to my city are being bought
The hotel is being booked
I’m a child dressed up as an adult
Sitting on the edge of the bed
Why do I keep going? it’s not right
I hate how my body reacts to your words of holding me down, choking me, staring into my eyes
It’s all inside my mouth
All I see in my head is a repeating stream of fantasies
I reread them
imagine them
feeling it inside of me
for hours like in coma I repeat them in my head
and if you ask me how I feel
I wouldn’t know what to say
How dare I complain when I did this to myself
It's all just words and writings
Copyright ©
Zhenya Tryp
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