Even though we'll lay after, cuddle and talk about who we are, I can't help but feel overwhelmed by all the baggage I unintentionally carry.
I see his eyes change. There's no longer laughter but a deep concern. "Don't, I'm quite alright now"
...but am I?
I try and break my patterns, so careful to not set new ones. For a brief moment I forget, I forget it all. The scars heal, they become horror stories that often incite more sadness than disgust.
"I'm quite alright now...I guess" detaching myself to go smoke a cigarette outside.
But I crave for his touch, run back to him almost immediately.
I hate how safe I feel in his arms as he coaxes me to fall asleep. I hate how good it feels. I hate how he holds me and I bury my face in his chest. It'll be different when we wake up. I hate him for being so incredibly wonderful. How do I demonise him, my lover? I hate that I can't.
I kiss him, I kiss him for long. There's no music, only the sound of rain. I swear it's better than what they'd show you in movies. I eventually fall sleep, worn out, he holds me. I wish he wouldn't, it'd make it easier to let go later but he holds me tight. He doesn't let go.
When it ends I'll pinch myself so I know it wasn't all a dream.
