All I can think about is you.
How when you press your lips against mine I can tell youre different.
By
Updated 7 years ago,August 2, 2018
I embrace solitude.
Kirill Vasilev
Find comfort within the walls of the fortress Ive built around myself.
I like it there.
No one can get to me.
I plant my own gardens.
I tend to each flower the way only I can.
The only way I can.
I dont want anyone to trespass.
I still havent been able to mask the scent of decay from the air.
I do not want anyones hands on me.
When they touch me, I let them only because I know I wont feel anything.
I dont want to feel anything.
But you look at me like searching for my history.
You lock pale green eyes with mine like youre trying to figure me out.
When your gaze lingers it feels as if you want to see everything.
I almost feel like you might see through me.
Because I felt some sort of buzzing inside.
Im a little afraid because I dont want to feel anything.
And ever since then, I can feel your presence lurking around at the gates.
And here I am, 2 AM again, seventh time in two weeks that I cant sleep.
Seventh time all I can think about is you.
How when you press your lips against mine I can tell youre different.
I lay here and think about Room 711.
Your warm skin blanketing mine.
The way you arranged and rearranged your limbs with mine all throughout the night.
How I want to keep learning their language.
I begin to wonder how you sleep when its only you in the bed.
Its got me thinking about the way your bed may look.
I take a stab at imagine the way it feels.
I throw my pen on the floor as if it were in flames.
Its no use because my hands are too.
I wish you were here to see what I am doing with them.
Touching every place yours have been, every place you made me feel something.
Its 2 AM and I pick my pen back up because Im a lost cause.
I write poetry about how I want to taste myself on your tongue again.
Its 2 AM and the thought sends me to your Instagram page because I want to see you.
I wish I could hear you and maybe I tap on a video.
Your voice doesnt stop at my ears, it does something to me.
Its 2 AM and Im writing things Im not familiar with.
Things Id rather not be writing.
Things Id rather no one knew.
Things Id rather you never read.
Its 2 AM and Im going with it, even if it doesnt go anywhere.
Its 2 AM and all I can think about is you.
Its 2 AM and I can feel the gates opening.
Its 2 AM and Im afraid.
