exposed and vulnerable
i
don’t have healing hands ,

i force delicacy
from fingertips meant to break ,
and
have tried to heal things
i should’ve shot .
                              .
you always felt a bit cold to me
                                     scarred ,

so
i pray to god
that
you never try to tell him
what i’ve tried to
do //

Your star freckled hands
reach inside me-
Pleasure making me forget even momentarily
That this, is not a love story.

Your hands do nothing to soothe the empty hunger left behind.
When my bedsheets are no longer warmed with your body.

Like an echo I can feel my heart beat against my rib cage.
A violent rally of
Alone.
And it screams
Alone.
Thumps
Alone.
And my fingers trace it into your skin when you are making my body your temporary home
(Alone . Alone . Alone it sings )

And I must never forget that
your hands can make me moan your name
Shout praises to a god I don't even believe in-
But your heart could not bear
to love me for anything more than my body

-to the girls who confuse *** with love
And to the boys who think an ****** is a job well done