IRC-Galleria

There is nothing I want more right now than for you to hold me and warm me up. I want to curl up with you in a bed piled high with blankets and pillows, in a room lined with christmas lights. I want to sip hot tea and chocolate soymilk and nibble on cookies and burrow into your chest. “Why do you always hide your face in my chest?” “Because it makes me feel safe.” I want to be there with you when the first snow falls. I want to listen to the winter’s silence with you, pink nose, cold hands and cheeks. I want to hear your heart beat in your chest, pretend it beats for only me. I want to not feel like crying because we are separated. I want you to smile at me, hit me, anything. I want you, in the most pathetic and pitiable way possible - in the way a child wants a mother. I want safety and protection and love, someone to hold me, comfort me, clasp my small, cold hands and tell me everything will be all right.

Make a wish on our sorry little hearts,

have a smoke, pour a drink,

steal a kiss in the dark.

Fingernails on my skin, like the teeth of a shark,

I'm intoxicated by the lie.

In the chill of your stare, I'm painfully lost

like a deer in the light of an oncoming bus.

For the thrill of your touch, I was shamefully lust

as you tell me we're nothing but trouble.