Believe me,
I've tried
stop lying awake until my sheets crawl up around my ankles
becoming wrinkly waves drowning me into the horror of
becoming something I've never been before
not by choice
but simply by the infatuation of breaking into a boat
just because "I wanted to steal a kiss from you on a boat"
and you don't own one
So I rather just keep on
sitting here and watching you talk about streams
not listening a word you say
because I rather watch your lips move
and listen the voice flow like rivers, not streams
streams seem too hurried
Believe me,
I've tried
interrupt you and rush into words telling you how his fingers were digging into my thighs and everything I could think about was your unshaved chin on my chest in the morning before you wake up and force me to get up to take a shower with you before we fall back under the covers and spend the whole day wrapped around each other without seeing the daylight in the whole day and I know we haven't made any promises related to you and me as me being yours and you sharing your bed with just me but even so - I couldn't go through with him having his fingers digging into my thighs
because I really really really like your bed
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