the fire in me
prose.
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Four years with my head in the books, always teetering toward some edge. Emotions reliant on the grade that graced each page I turned in. I never knew peace until you grabbed onto my thighs. I became familiar with contentment as I looked into your eyes. And upon your lips, I finally tasted tranquility. You guided me with educated hands and showed me what it meant to learn and understand. But then all at once, you took it away. I need you to hold me, feed me, and bleed me dry. Love me then leave me in a fever dream high. It was a quick-love, sick-love, suffocate-me-with-your-dick-love. Like a slice of cake meant to celebrate, so sweet in the moment but I don’t ever want to taste it again.
I was hesitant on sharing this one. If you read this one and you know me in person, please don’t ever make eye contact with me again.
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