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23 and i know she wants me to try harder
she wants a chase.

[I also think she wants to move to my city]

she wants word from me all throughout the day and i just
don't care enough to think of what to say to her.

The problem is having to think of what to say.

shouldn't I should be full of constant streaming nonsense and random statements?

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i really cant wait to stay still and start building things. I've always been good at building things.
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i dont try to make us art.
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i am no longer hurt, or scared, or angry
or for that matter

outwardly crazy

but i miss the person that you are.
(do i only miss how you made me feel? i did love being curled against you. the smell of your specific products have yet to leave me)

to be "okay"

i miss you, but i could never be okay

ill keep trying

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Chapter 1.
She feels like a best friend. I am still afraid to touch her, and our signals are confusing.
She makes me laugh, and gives me just enough of her to keep me coming back for more. We touch but do not kiss. We talk but do not act. When I step into her life for a night I lay awake next to her for hours while she sleeps. My head fills with ideas of different ways to put her body on paper. Different ways to describe all the things that may or may not lie under our surface. She's sweet, (but not too sweet) and very sad at times. We talk like teenagers about skipping town. I like the way our bodies fit together.

Chapter 2.
She had my heart, and sometimes she still does. It was love, there's no doubt about that. She is gorgeous, and mouthy. She acts like a guy. The soft side of her is difficult to come by these days, and I crave it more than I care to admit. Physical things build slowly, and come naturally to us. Anticipation mounts. Though sometimes I want it fast, and almost too hard. Sweating, and tearing clothes off, ruining them. We're good at touching each other, and we know it. I'm starting to wonder if that's all that is left of what I once thought
was everything I'd been looking for. I am also starting to wonder if I mind that, or if I don't.

Chapter 3.
She is a creature of the night, like I am. We talk for hours on the phone, and she understands the kind of life I lead. I am not jealous of the men that pay for her attention. The men that pay to see her body. She is dark, and lust fills our conversations to the point that I can feel her breath on my neck through the phone. She is small, and her legs wrap around my waist in the bathroom stall of a dark bar In an unfamiliar city. She is loud when she comes, and she doesn't give a fuck who hears. She says "let them kick us out just Don't stop." The scratches on my back are hot, and pulsing.
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i like the way you rest your elbows on my shoulders when you kiss me.
your long arms in a knot behind my neck.
your hair smells like apples, and when i get up to get a glass of water in the night
i come back to bed finding that
you have taken off your clothes and all that's left
is a [very] small amount of lace.
you pretend to be asleep at first while my hands search your body under the sheets.
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I like the weight of you next to me in bed. I never stopped wanting it.
It is the kind of want that speaks to something primal inside of me.

I didn't kiss you last time even though I thought about it from the second I saw you in the lobby

Until right now

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im watching a documentary about strippers to get an idea of the girl that's trying to move in on my heart. that's a real thing.

you seem pretty comfortable talking to me about it. i am pretty unsure about how to respond.

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five hours on the phone with you and i am completely taken
Current Music:
patti page - i dont care if the sun dont shine
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the only time the words will form is if
they're around a woman

or if they're about teeth, and skin. hair and lips.
broken blood vessels. inside out body parts.

circulating the same shit. over and over and over and over and over

wheres the money wheres the money wheres the money. under your fingernails inside your teeth behind your lips
i need new words. even my paintings are starting to look the same because im running out of colors.
i need a new fucking brain.

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