I get reckless when I want to
be touched. I call and hang up.
I walk into the middle of the street.
I lie. I dangle my phone out of the
second story window, pretend
I’m saving your life.
The things that I want are shameful.
The things that I want are
meant for spectacular bodies
sprawled out in big beds,
or slammed up against a wall.
All I’ve got is a couch and a
crooked mouth that wants to
bruise your neck, so I’ll pretend
it’s enough to get you to
come home with me.
So what if I’m not spectacular?
I can still have the dream
of you with your hands all over me,
unashamed and hungry, if I want it.
Look, just come over.
Just go with me here,
for a second.
I know you don’t love me.
I know this, but pretend.
Pretend for a while.
I don’t care if I’m special,
as long as you fuck me like I am.
Because this is my life. And that’s the only explanation you will ever need.
Unknown (via blackbruise)
i know but idk
me when i know but idk (via bageutte)