I might
03/18/2025
I am willing to be torn apart, if that means her hands touch my heart, so be it.
Careful though, my edges are rough and I wouldn't want to tear your beautiful hands.
Injure.
She can set me on fire with the lightest graze on my skin.
Ignite me with her fingertips, light me up.
If I've cried over you enough, who needs a firetruck?
We have fire alarms for that.
She's aware of my desires, she likes it, control... over seamlessly nothing.
So much power lies in those hands.
I cannot help but stare, between their crevices, I might fight my chances.
And if my hands can't reach her, because of all this distance, then maybe my words can.
This is the reason I write.
I might love her.
I might believe in love.
Maybe I think too much.
Maybe I'm yours too much.
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