I may still be a hoarder like my younger self, but not of things—instead of experiences and people.
It’s 9:51pm and it’s been over 3 hours since I punched those letters for the last time.
I watched him between my legs,
his hold firmer
I’m scared to text because I’m supposed to not let you know I’m thinking about you.
And I don’t take it back.
I need to feel you, your emotional connection to me, your attraction to me.
Not even the nicest of homes nor the most stunning ocean view
can distract my mind from what it wants, what it misses.
I told myself to be carefree to just have fun to enjoy you because I could.
sometimes, as in all the time, I want you back.
Are you craving my smile and tickles down your bare back as you lay your weight onto mine?