I remember those nights when we never cared for the next sunset. As if the only full moon of the month is our last. We drove around to open night breeze inching towards the fancy restos and antique shops along the road away from your crib. I looked at you and how you’re rockin’ your bedside hair that speaks ‘ain’t giving a fuck’. You smile at me back treacherously as your scent imprints and lingers on my dreams that night. Yes, I never told you, but I’m digging it all.
I remember how you wanted me so bad in your bed and still let me do what I want. The way your body responds to every touch, to every whisper, to every kiss thrills me within and sends me to euphoria. You have given me the freedom and the same liberty I admit I denied to you when I refuse to consider the truth. It was those nights where I believe that I did own you, and I submitted myself to be owned. That you were my fortress. My shield. My strength. But all of it came to rust once doubt from my heart spread out across my body. An every inch of me questions everything about you.
And sunrise came, I had to go. I woke up with swollen muscles, doubting thoughts and crushed morals. The exhaustion seeps in despite a restful night followed by the question of “what have I been doing?” And “what do I really want.”
I may not like what I’ve been doing. I may had struggled before. But I like you for sure.
And tonight, maybe I’m just tired. And I’m missing you.
But I don’t want you back.
Stuttering 