no because the way his fingers slip into my bones and leave them aching for more the moment they pull away

it’s a stretch really

to crave somebody’s touch and feel bare without it

the moment the hues in my eyes start to dim and theirs suddenly glow with an intimate scar that leaves me breathless in between my ribs

and my legs will feel tense and they will build with theirs

and no because the way they held me while i scratched my thighs screaming “please help me” while being triggered by the world

skin and bones and flesh and blood

it all tastes the same when your heart starts to cave